a humble vagabond; shadowing your existence
in search of a conclusion to a story that was...

you.
you have a way about you...

oh sweet child, do you still pluck a
dandelion to adorn every bouquet...

time swims non-linearly in a vast ocean.
i bring palms together, and cup the water...

with time dressing all wounds leisurely,
do you think memories are nocturnal...

i write of you on borrowed ink,
dream of you on stolen sleep...

and you – what tethers your soul to this
vagrant world? what little good does sleep...

the first time i'd seen you was in
a little café downtown – stars aligned...

the sea spells y/our name in
the gentle whirlpools...

tonight; we drink our wounds
earnestly, searching for melancholy...

i loved you once –
and in love, the heart is in a tizzy...

these nights, the air is in a drunken stupor,
borrowing spirit from our wine, daring...