Fool.

Love can sometimes be magic.

But magic is just an illusion.

worse than death

For whatever dies between a man and a woman is greater than any single death.

Lost

She knocked
a little bit harder
and with a sense
of urgency
on his hotel room door.

He knew she would come
if not hysterical,
nervous or
just like right now
intoxicated.

She accuses him
of things they
already know
but never talk
about

The elephant
in the fucking room
finally gets
recognized.

Tonight,
she just wants to be loved
and he
just wants to finally
love her.

In between

I've seen better days
days when I've stayed
in just one emotion
and wanted just one need

These days
I swing from a rope
that has one end tied
to the beam of my
bedroom ceiling
and the other
tightly wrapped
around my neck.

It's going to be
another cold
from a virus that
has mutated.
Another burnt
steak from another
restaurant
that seems to be
more pathetic
than the last.

I'm in between days
and in between hard things.

Random poetry

I want to write love on your skin.
I want to cover your body
with words the way
clothes do.

I want to write
poetries on your belly,
trace the letter Y
in script
around your belly button.

I want to stain your legs
with indigo ink,
forming words that profess
my feelings.

I want your body to carry
the story of how we met-
the awkward silences,
the lovestruck stares,
the laughter
and the resignation
in realizing
we're stuck with each other
and it isn't all that bad.

I want to look at your fingers,
toes and knees
and know
just how much I love you.