Tables and Windows

I dance when I see you.
You’ll never be free while the chairs are
empty and I’ve resigned myself
to the fact.
Old phantoms in the windows.
New flowers on the kitchen table.
I love you more than apple pie and
scarves in winter – in the same afternoon.

I dance when I see you.
You wear new shoes old and people watch
when you walk by but they’ll
never ever catch up.
Yesterdays paper on the coffee table.
Fresh perspective out the windshield.
I love you more than the fairest mirror on
the wall – and twice as much as you find there.

I dance when I see you.
You’re never far from laughter and comforting
silences and I don’t suppose I’ve ever
been so taken by anyone.
History is beautiful as we discuss at the table.
The future – blinding bright – IS the window.
I love you more than I did the day before,
when I loved you a lot, but time grows it.

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Eyes on the Sky

maybe it was the way the
water moved
when I looked at you all
reflecting in your eyes are they
even real your eyes I mean I see
so much more than reflections and
I don’t always see what you do like
that time when the stars were in the
sky oh do you remember the sky
so big and vast and free and
every word feels lame and flat
in comparison
look at me chasing rabbit trails
off into your more-than-eyes and
into the big flat sky of the night
when there are stories to be told so
many stories that we really ought
to share and since you’ve gone I
guess that leaves me to do the telling:
once upon a time there was beauty
and then there was me
and you came and went
and then there was me again
oh this will never do like button-downs
in sticky summers this collection is
clinging to me

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when days feel like poems
and you’ve lost your dreams
and days don’t feel crisp like autumn
and neither are they the color of spring

when your coffee is never quite hot enough
and ¬†you can’t remember the tragedy just passed
and you have fully discovered empty bottles
and they were empty of answers

when the shining sun doesn’t warm you
and every morning is the same stale air
and the rain can’t even cool you down
and the apples never ripen

when you wash and wash your sheets
and nothing is ever clean
and nothing is ever new again
and you have run out of beginnings

when you weep because you are alone
and you are a fallen man
and you remember it all
and everything hurts

I hope you know:
I forgave you.

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Lifetime Affair

I have a confession:
– the affair of a lifetime!
Here I am
surrounded by this secret
(or not-so-secret)
love again.
All my days have
pointed to this.
You could find evidence
in my actions, thoughts, words.
We keep meeting, you see.
Almost always alone.
At night.
In the morning.
Shameless in the broad daylight.
I can’t help it,
this incontrollable lust.

I am ready to admit this
to submit my soul to judgement:

I am irreversibly enchanted
by coffee shops.

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Remains and Wreckage

whenever I saw her she was
so full of memories
sad-happy memories things
like colored broken glass
she was remains and wreckage

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Artist Ballad

“I see you
I see you
I know who
you are I
recognize you I
see your beauty
I see you
I see you
I know who
you are I
have captured your
lines curves planes
spaces emptiness expressions
I see you
I see you
I know who
you are I
am your reflection”

voice of the artist,
heard in his heartbeat
the curl of his hair
on a metro somewhere in Paris
in July

he left the metro car.
I missed him.

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At a Distance

I believe in dramatic skies
in fevered skin
sight by starlight

I believe in painted shutters
letters from home
stolen hearts

The lace of the world is pieced
together by the ramblings of
the wise

Here I sit on a
wooden bench
with a child
at my feet;

the pillars of the ancient
the doors of opportunity
the musings of one
misplaced mind

It all makes sense
at a distance

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