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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