It was a fierce short summer.
A ripe trunk had died...
Roses in your stiff hands
melt my heart...
Broken is not the word
My heart is torn...
Deadly words from poisonous tongues
Eat at even the purest of souls...
Why do you rail against the Moon?
Your sword unsheathed...
Like all the men
I've ever adored...
You whispered it'd be complicated,
Like those numerous times before...
(All titles of songs by Mercy Me)
Goodbye ordinary, the time has come, I know...
Globs of beautiful romantic colors drip with ease...
down a vacant canvas thirsty for love and beauty...
America is in our cereal bowls
and on our T.V.s...
Another poem asking for the impossible.
Another night wishing you were here...
The observer and the observee are the same
but we cannot observe that at once...