shouldn't i be doing something more than
sitting here thinking of some memory
of us together, sitting beneath the heavy night, dreaming together...
some memory i've yet to create.. ?


the world is spinning and all i can think of is you--
you have words that can make my world stand still,
silence its loud thoughts
and listen


i don't even know you, yet i'm playing with the idea of "us,"
the idea of some greater reality we might spend together,
in hopes of creating some means of diversion from my present state of affairs

quit being a diversion and come home with me.
be present, and i'll be there too.

what we say beneath our words and what is seen between our stares
could cause the world around us to tumble and fall
could cause us to tumble and fall
if we only quit listening to the sound of peaceful longing
and allowed ourselves to see beyond complacency


these are all wasted days,
when we pretend we have no remorse of absent motives

these are all wasted days,
the times we spend without trying harder than this.

these are all wasted days,
wasted hours, wasted seconds spent in thought, spending our every
discernment on idle curiosities.

i want to fall with you
perhaps we'll get hurt along the way

you can fix me and i'll fix you
we'll get better along the way

you say you want to fall with me,
you want to rest in my arms and be imperfect together
you say you want to see the world rushing by as we hold each other tight
so as to prevent ourselves from getting hurt
(and if we do get hurt, to suffer equally, together)

you say these things as i look up at you,
already fallen, always waiting.



we waste our lives saying what we never mean
and meaning what we never say.

 

 

She is 

 

watching the thunderstorm make the sidewalk a river 

waiting under the awning of a hotel 

holding her black heels in one hand,  her gold clutch in the other

 

I watched 

 

from the other side of the street,

from a window seat at a bar

killing time until a former co-worker could meet for supper

 

Finally,  

 

I walked across the street

splashing my way through traffic

handing her my umbrella

 

It's  yours,  I said

 

My hero, she whispered

half a smile 

 

Dreams have happy endings

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