It must’ve been 1992,
And all I’d remembered was the smell of
Maple
On my fingers.

The moon’d later melt,
And all I’d remembered was the smell of
Maple
On my fingers.

The boys met the girls,
And all I’d remembered was the smell of
Maple
On my fingers.

I’d never forget, “tender,” her thigh,
And all I’d remembered was the smell of
Maple
On my fingers.

And leaves later felled their own trees,
But all I’d ever remember was the smell of
Maple
On my fingers.

*Note - Yosemite, 1992, her name was, "Elizabeth," and we always fall in love come the first attempt at, "connect," right?

Words are like weapons
Can maim and tear
So in the heat of the moment
You must beware.

We are not rubber *****,
We do not bounce back.
We bear the scars
Of your scathing attack.

We come back changed
Though the change may be slight,
A little bit tougher
With a little more bite.

Stow your tempered words
Within their sheath
Or taste the sharp side
Of our teeth.

We think that  
when a lover inflates his loved one
he or she is failing to acknowledge their  flaws...

"Love is blind" we say ...
but it may be the other way around

You see ...

Love allows a person to see
the true angelic nature of another,
their halo,
the aureole of divinity.

Love permits
an extrasensory capability of looking deeper into the soul.

And for that reason,
Genuine love
could not be blind.

We sat aloft a dune
   peering over the ocean,
waves mesmerizing
  our inner turmoil,
grainy surf dimensions
    cut into psyche,
voices turned hazy
midst broiling sun
  washed back with
   salt water tears,
there was no lighthouse
  to guide the way
  nor save disparate crests  
no words reverberated the sound,
    just the floundering of
      gritty restless emotions
that once were blissed horizons
   before moon lost its balance
     to relentless torrential currents
      of neglectful destruction,
   drowning in ambiguous undertows

Under a tree,
Await rain to stop.

I
See a flower
Defy rain,
Struck by drops,
Liable to die.

When I hesitate,
She falls, beheaded,
So beautifully, in
So ominous rain.
Even while falling,
She never yields.

Now, leaves fall
Above my head.

I regret.
Should’ve helped.
Here remains only
This wet, cowardly flesh.

I
See this bud
Defy rain
Even when dead.

the question
the answer
that will never change
regardless of how you feel that day
are you okay?
i have been