Curious

It waits tonight

Undercurrents of stray passions

Mingling into shadows of the night

While we weave in and out

Treading crumbling boundaries

On tiptoe. Tiptoe.

She made giggles and words appear on cue,

I swear I still think about you

With eyes wide open

And a heart quite small.

But it’s a little curious isn’t it

Your enforced silence

Sound asleep in corners of a dream

A touch here, his breath sparse

And he slowly hates it,

Dead love and a few wine bottles.

It's official.

I don't like you.

Small. Small. Lives.

I got lost tonight. In your light, my blight.

What I Know and You Don't

Contrary to what you may think, I am no goldmine. I'm a lost soul flaying about in a fishbowl, like in that song, only alone. Contrary to what you see, I am not happy. I lose butterflies in the sand and simply watch from under kohl margined eyes. Contrary to what you've heard, I don't say much. I wait for your words to reach me and then disappear. You'd like to know me, I know. But aren't we terribly short of time?

Yours Truly.

Hope's the word for the day

I'll meet you in dreams, then?

you could choose me.

Parting Words To A Dying Night

And I made you some promises, didn’t I?

And we’ve cut some good days, some bad

Because somewhere I let your voice get the better of me

And now we’re getting to the end of it all.

And I made you my world, didn’t I?

Poetic bluff on a Sunday morning

Because someday we’ll be bigger than right now

And maybe we’ll meet again.