And so it begins again

Gently, he removes the heavy weight from between my shoulder blades.
Unless i am mistaken, his eyes are sending me a message, although i cannot see them - my back turned.
The wafting smell of pine cinders make my mind wander, dreaming of the warmth that emerges exclusively in the winter months.
He draws back my attention effortlessly and unknowingly.
Realizing that the moment is fading, i turn to face him, our bodies no closer than only seconds before, but now any separation would seem unbearable to me.
I look into his eyes, chocolate brown, searching for the secrets of his thoughts.
Eyes no longer conveying correctly what he wants to say, he leans forward and our lips connect for the first time, softly smoothly and gently.

The Consuming Flames

I couldn't believe that it took fireworks.

Red fire, consuming my oxygen
and my thoughts.
And the tones of your voice
like booming thunder
filling my ears with a ringing
that I could hear even after
you left me.

You entered amidst a black sea of other people.

The room was dark, shrouded
in black lace and prayers.
But somehow you appeared to me
clearer and brighter
than any disco ball
or compact fluorescent could ever manage.

The soot soon smothered us all.

The flames licking bright new brick
and threatening to swallow us
piece by piece
taking with it our pressboard furniture,
just so that the interior matched our skin -
covered in shining, charcoal burns.

I couldn't believe that it took fireworks.

Red fire, of my creation
consuming every part of you.
And as if the spectacle wasn't enough
the first time,
an encore seemed fitting,
doused in gasoline.

moving on

You have never loved me
and I know you never will.
The you I loved is lost -
I forgive, am calm, and still.

I'm Sorry

I would like to say
sorry,
for treating you this way

Sometimes I feel
a. confused – cracked, crazy
that my room is full of
pictures, photos, philosophies, psychoanalyses,
memories, and memos
but your square slumps, lonely
against the left side wall
b. stressed – scared, stupid
because every time our eyes meet
and our greetings float over
countless heads and pizza slices

I fear your parting thoughts go something
like this:
what. a. bitch.
But I do not want to make excuses.

Every passing day
runs too quickly
into the next,
counting down only gets worse and worse
until we are no longer friends,
or even acquaintances

As I increasingly hear that
- it will surely snow tomorrow -
my apology runs the risk of never
descending upon your ears,
or anyone else's.

And I just have to tell someone that
I am
sorry

You Treated Me Well

I must say, you treated me well.
roses clipped, dressed and gently placed
just for me.

hearts: pink, pressed, glued and smiling
just for me.
kinda.

messages sent from feathered fingers
tracing skin and freckles and -
flying fingers over keys
never played the chords just right.

instead:
i waited.
i waited.
i was dissapointed.

Still, I must say, you treated me well.
you never cheated, never yelled, never lied,
but I must say,
you could have treated me better.