Twin universes spin,
round and round
they form a ring,
in this ring upon the ground
I am found.

When the galaxies collide
I am found again inside,
in a ring around
and round and
twin universes spin.

You were always
the bit

where the map creased & tore
leaving us unsure

looking through a hole
at our own big toe.

You were always
the bit

where the map was folded in four
and had to be awkwardly unfolded

just to see
where you were.

You were always
the bit

that was just off this map

ending in mid air...

...see next map:

...the missing map!

You were always
the lost map.

You were often
the wrong map.

The map that there was...

. . .no map of!

The negative will always turn,
to burn the burn out of the
burned in germ
and the positive which gives a ride
to the mental attitude on which I glide
quite gracefully,
returns to me.

It alternates, this state of mind
it changes things in which I find the
energy which then combines with something,
I don't know the name,
but it makes things better all the same.

No pills involved
I have revolved to spin again and
turn to burn out all the pain, in doing so,
I'll either grow
stronger,
or I'll die.

I am Canada goose,
flying low,
hanging loose
with the flock.
I am Iroquois,
Panama,
hats off to
what you are,
hang loose with the pack and
we'll all make it back,
someday.

*** and love
are not synonyms
I didn't fall in love with you
because you touched me
I fell in love with you
because you made flowers grow
inside of me
when no one else could

h.a

Flames licked the edge of the page in which words so beautifully written were spread across.
It reminded me of your jade eyes and wickedly breathtaking smile.
The words spoke of our love that was once so passionate and fierce.

As the fire engulfed the paper entirely, I knew that the story the page had shared came to an end,
Just like our love.
But I'd be ****** if I said I didn't still miss you.

If this Winter lingers just a little longer and the nights are drawn in tight about my shoulders, will you hold me just a little closer, take the candle and with flames of passion,
fashion me a blanket and snuggle under to see the winter disappear, and if the Summer wakes us with a nudge and winks a light into my eye,
will you be shy,
shall we wander down the avenue, just me and you and several hundred pigeons looking for a place to eat, breakfast and the heat of toast upon our lips,
If this Winter seems too long, will this song we sing bring unto us the joys of Summer?
on the bus?
the city dwells and in all seasons, well it would,
wouldn't it?