It is the single most complex and simple thing in this world

It boggles my head
Hurts my heart

But it's there

Wrap me up in your words
Bury me in the warmth of you
Until I’m left with your scent for days
As I fall in love with you all over again

He trails.

He turns.

He falls behind.

But always discerns.

Fortunately our tastes for this
sort of life coincide,
except in the matter of sunrise,
which he likes to see up and dressed,
and I from my bed.

If there comes a time
that you might lose me
Find me in my poetry

they buried a poet
sprinkled his words over coffin
tossed a book into dirt alongside
and waited few decades
to have a leaf sprout
for winds to carry his lines
far
to one with open ears
another circle in a world of squares
have phrases strain down the cheeks
into ink smeared on paper


buried in a trashcan
in a diary
in a library
in dirt
everywhere really...