misery is a quiet resource; an unknown quantity of...
you were the oasis, the empty vessel that life...

i used to think i could find home by
tracing your fingers back to where...

borrowing breath from tomorrow
staves lament just a moment longer...

y/our laughter is a metronome
playing into the late hours of...

the morning light drinks from your
eyes – a continuous wellspring of...

your name is scarred tissue
on my tongue; your incendiary...

we cross the meadow, astonished
in part by the beauty of it. the river...

to the man who chased after eternity –
foolishly, i follow in your footsteps...

the fireplace crackles, washing us in lights
of oranges, reds and yellows – the nights...

cruelest fate – we dance our waltz,
alternating the lead and the other...

i sought affection from your words.
you – you needed kind words spoken...

drawn together by wrong ideas;
our souls salivate at all the wrong...