late-night thinking doesn't
     end
until five
(when the sun decides to
            go to bed and pins
  up a
    paper cut-out and a "will
                   return soon"
  in its place, billowing warm
     fingers over the world)

Safety in lowered
    lashes, (elephant)
gaze
              across first fields, perked
                                           senses
      on their feet perched

perfectly             water
                under             an infusion

     of color woven with a hint of
                      nostalgia

brevity of breath
does not mean lacking in thought
veil'd words reveal much

Picture yourself in twenty years
no
I can't either. But
we'll both get there, I'm
certain of the fact

and I'll be kinder and you'll be
wiser and I just
hope I still know
you then

Is there any reason why it
should feel so wholesome like
a warm kitchen smell ten
minutes before dinner
when your fingers seal off the
gaps between mine?

or why silence carries as much
meaning as the words
blinked from your mouth
while eyes seek eyes?

I've got a head full of
laughter and an aching heart
and moonlit walks and waffle
talks

Existence is a battle,
you fight or you die.
Existence is conquering,
making others serve you.
Whether it's people
or it's things,
earth must be bent,
bent to your will,
just to survive.
Water is stolen,
Creatures are killed.
All for a simple,
a fleeting,
a miserable
existence.

So that is existence,
but it is not life.

Life is a peace,
built in others.
Life is surrender,
a turning in.
Whether it's people
or it's things,
life is giving,
providing for others.
Water is lent.
Creatures lay down.
All for another,
all a sacrifice,
all for love.

For love is life.

I occasionally
skip a beat
just
to watch you falter.