Like an old story

Placing fingers on every string

A birdbath filling with rain

Aren't we an awkward place to

Contemplate Love & hate.

So this journey travels

Be it less be amazed

The birds can get higher

With the storm spinning vanes

Water proof wings

Feeding the sky

In a sadness that could become quiet

Every step meaning more

And a feeling we require

To endure

If she knew my pen moved

the way her lips do,

Like love keeping others.

How my neck leans

to the pulse.

Words too fast to slow.

My animal ready,

abusing life,

skin grows.

I hope it's a sweet night,

One I can get off of.

Coming down.

Folding hands.

Just above the ashes

ready to spread.

A prayer for wind.

A steady grip.

Eye lashes thin

long

together

wet,

On a journey.

Hold me up

long enough

to give in.

Let me rest my head

upon you,

forever

my friend.

Let your hair fall over

our kiss

If we fit

Into being here again.

Until you wake

I will be sitting here, wishing for you

in the backest seat of this squarest room, filled pink hue

In dropping sun color painted, A rising moon,

Enough light to pretend your lips move.

Waiting here, It is all of this,

Taking from you, Doctor coats hang stethoscopes

Nurses paper work of daily verse. Smile of reassure.

I scribble hearts and song clefts, notes of your rising chest.

Where all that I have done, rests. My face on your blankets

under your hands, ice chip cool. I wait, I confess so much to you.

I am in touch with the pattern of your beats.

What these machines feel, How they connect you.

Like me, in your last breath, Waiting for this.

Dying blue covered lips, Facing papers to resurrect

against your wish, The kids have left, Daisies, Kisses, and Wept.

Our songs repeat on my playlist.

My watered wrists accompany sulking texts,

An empty journal opened, titled,

..our final kiss