One day
I want to write a poem
That captures your soul
In the adjectives
Describing the sky

One day
I want to write a sentence
That you will carry
In your memory
Scarred and stained
For an infinity

One day
I want to write a short story
Of a guy
A lot like you
And a girl
A lot like me
With no lies
Only honesty
And a forever that lasted
Just a while

One day
I want to write a paragraph
About the sea in you
And the sea in me
And how we fell in
Each other
And never needed to come up for air

One day
I want to write a dictionary
With all of our own definitions
Of everyone else's words
It will start from the letter Z
And end on A
Because it will be easier
That way

One day
I want to write an essay
On how the sunlight
Made patterns on your skin
Even after you lied
And shadowed the constellations
Screaming honesty
Into the dark

One day
I want to write a novel
About the way your voice
And his voice
Sounded
Just before
You both were about to cry

One day
I want to write lyrics
For the song
I meant to sing to you
About the moon
And the sun
And how they dance
Whenever all of our eyes are closed
Even if it's just for a second
(Light
Always travels faster
Than sound)

One day
I want to write you a telegram
With someone else's hand
To tell you
How much I miss you
And how my heart
Is not in my chest anymore
Really-
It's shattered across the sky
Just for you to see

One day
I want to write you a letter
To tell you
That you didn't know what love is
And neither did I

But
I still love you

It's a beautiful day.

If you can,
step outside,
close your eyes,
Take a moment.
Breathe.

Now,
With your eyes still closed,
Point your face to the Sun
And smile.

Take it in
Breathe again.
Do you feel something?
A tingling warmth?
Yes? Good.

That is what it feels like to really be alive.
And on this day
This moment
Was made just for you!

They call each other ‘J.’ John picks
red, red roses in Mansfield Park and brings
them to Jane. She explains instant karma to him.

In heaven Jane wears her hair short, sports
fringed bellbottoms and teashades.
John has meat on his bones now; prefers black slacks

and button ups, a trucker hat from Abbey Road.
They take long drives and often sing songs.
He says they’ll remain lovers. Until the end.

Jane’s novels now contain leather, VW buses,
electricity, space shuttles, computers, Madonna and Marilyn
Monroe. The rock’n’roll makes her sway her hips in the rain.

John likes himself with peace. This morning
he will play guitar and sing ‘For He Was Rich, and
She Was Handsome to the tune of ‘Happiness is a Warm Gun.’

Jane will two-step and whistle. Alone
by the fireplace later, they’ll listen to the raindrops
and doze. They will not think of Mr. Darcy

or Yoko Ono. They know why God made them
roommates. It’s because the world
was their playground. It’s because

an artist cannot do anything
slovenly. It’s because
all you need is love.

yellow primroses,
in your blonde hair,
the summer wind blowing
and messing it up.
you are dancing without
a care in the green meadow
that you adore
and the village where you
grew up.
floral wreaths on top
of your head,
the sun is beaming over you.
and like this,
with flowers in your hair,
flowers that almost
match your hair color,
and that sun dress that i adore,
you are still perfect,
and you'll always be.

Your soft lips met with mine,
you and I lost and entwined,
you trace my outline with your fingers
and your sensual touch lingers.
I quiver, I quake,
this is an ****** I cannot fake.

It's weird when people you knew die.
Especially when you're young.
I'm not terribly upset though,
Death doesn't hit me like it used to, I've sort of become adjusted.
But sometimes I think:
I'll never run into them at the grocery store and catch up a bit,
They will never get married to the love of their life,
Or have children,
But I might.
By the time I am dying,
They will barely be but a memory
Deep in the brain of someone who knew them 60 years ago,
Someone like me.
How strange.

I can see the face,
Hear the voice,
But It's all in my head.
I'll never see or hear it again.

laughing at nothing
specific,
you said you could
swim the pacific.

i didn't believe you,
of course
and that's when you
headed for the doors.

i laughed harder,
at your blunt escape.
but you thought
that this was a date.

i gave you a
disapproving look,
and you stared at me
until your hands with
mine hooked.

you kissed me out
of the blue,
and you smiled against
my lips because you knew
it was true.

and i realized that
with a couple of drinks,
you can do a lot of
brave things.