…you were my sun, and I stared straight into you, squinting, like I wanted you to be the last thing I ever saw.

---
excerpts from forgotten journals ~2010

I'm still tracing the stars
with the tips of my fingers,
wondering if you found
the map I left for you.

My heart's a lake
a languid mirror

She ran away with night
stitched into the soles of her feet,
looking for someplace a world away
from her shadow.

Sometimes these branches freeze,
and the warm red fruit gushes through
to the tips of my leaves ~

Did you notice the seasons had changed?

I've lost the lustre of language.
Now my digits dance confoundedly
from page to page with primordial fear.

Begin again with the road behind you.
Set a course for emotional re-direction.

Sleep, and I will know you.
Wake, and I will dream again.

A turn of color wipes my cheek,
While lost in gleeful reverie.

You are my opportunity.

Silence trickles in past the doormen,
lazy at their posts --- unfocused.

I sleep to dream of you.