Words fall off unless we lick them,

stick them to the recipient

the intrepid receiver of our slivers

of meaning built by our slivers of shivers.

When the letters line up

shine up

show up to show us up

just when we thought we glowed up.

Now to find out we went hard to stick those syllables

and lick those syllables

so they stay together to make a

merry weather day filled with words I hope stick and stay.

I hope they stay on my sticky note.

The one I licked for good luck before

I stuck it to your soul.

Words fall off unless we lick them,

stick them to the recipient

the intrepid receiver of our slivers

of meaning built by our slivers of shivers.

When the letters line up

shine up

show up to show us up

just when we thought we glowed up.

Now to find out we went hard to stick those syllables

and lick those syllables

so they stay together to make a

merry weather day filled with words I hope stick and stay.

I hope they stay on my sticky note.

The one I licked for good luck before

I stuck it to your soul.

Words...those sparks that speak for us.

Syllables formed from thoughts.

Sometimes they articulate perfectly the intended message.

Sometimes they tell our stories.

We send them out to lovers, and friends and foes alike. They're perfect parcels...meant for someone else to form meaning.

Occasionally they are left outside in the rain.

Unreceived

Ignored

Misunderstood

It's as if they are speechless.

With the fresh reality, everyone shows up

"Let us help."

"What can we do?"

They don't know what to do.

I don't know what they can do.

Physically close is uncomfortable

because a hug may feel right

but could be rebuffed

where does that leave them?

It leaves them with arms empty

while I live days and nights

with every part of everything empty.

Talking is easy when I fill the air.

In the throes of disaster

I had a focus

there was illness or getting well

or planning for death...

all those provided a solution

The aftermath leaves nothing but

ends to tie up and items to sort.

and the things that show up that

I must decipher

Thoughts to clear away

pieces of white paper and colored

what to keep and whatever mattered

A life reduced to rubble

and piles of useless clutter.

There’s nothing like the eyes of a lover.

They search so deeply.

Seeing all the way through

Deep into their lover’s soul pool

Clear, warm and salty

It holds the years of tears shed

While looking for them...waiting for them.

It is their place on which

To float endlessly.

In that safe dwelling within their lovers soul...made just for them.

Last night I noticed light glinting off the silver of the car. Looking straight up overhead I saw her...Our moon. I smiled at her...she smiled back...I told her silently...thank you sister...I love you and how your luminescence lights my way. Tonight’s dark sky is brightened once again by the never ending beauty of Our Moon...with or without you...I know we will always bask in her light at the same time...we might even have a private glance upward...remembering her as Ours and our time with her.

Like dew on grass my tears rested gently on my cheeks. Each droplet rolled slowly over the mounds leaving a glistening trail to be traced by your fingers. As you caught each one you asked, “Why my love do you weep so?” To that I answered, “Because soon I will miss you as fiercely as I am thrilled to see you now.” Watching the joy in my eyes at seeing yours you leaned down and kissed the trail of each tear. The path was then broken. Only joy remained in its place.

Like an old camera

which when opened

exposes the delicate film,

so did our time together

capture these snapshots

of memories longed

to be created.

Created from joy,

surprise, tenderness,

passion, desire,

Reconciliation and love.

The laughter and longing

connection and satisfaction,

affection and belonging

held us tightly together.

Hold my hand.

Catch my tears.

And know my love

I’ll do the same.

Ours dance together

We don't know, but

their play keeps us close.

They know no distance.

Ours only know love.

The ether is their earth.

Holding hands just like us.