there are beautiful things
    that are meant to last
    only for a moment
    they fade for a reason
    or no reason at all
    like the nameless flowers blooming
    bleeding in my mind last night
    i could not find them this morning
    i could have plucked them
    while morpheus played
    weaved my dreams
    i thought i heard them cry
    it was a love song
    that lulled me to sleep
    i culled them to death
    in my waking

    * * *


    i’m a storm or a tempest between her
    love-weary heart and her rational mind.
    yesternight i yielded to my longing.
    may the morning breeze bring these words of mine
    and turn into kisses when they touch or
    reach her lips and the contours of her breast.
    in her world, i am but an ampersand:
    lines or refrains of a forgotten song
    yearning to be heard even in her dreams
    not as mem’ry but her rhyme and reason


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