The cure

Softly spoken through
gentle lips, softly sweet.
Softly gazing through
tender eyes, softly sweet.

Simply resting upon
gentle frame, simply sweet.
Simply held-up within
tender lace, simply sweet.

Who has the right
to say which
promises are sacred?

Subtle smiles stolen
from behind, so subtle.
Subtle smiles resent
gentle sender, ever subtle.

Simply soft,
gentle, tender and
softly simple.

Koi Bito

Beneath the warming sunlight
Asian leaves wave hello,
calling me to rest
in the bosom of her limbs.
It is a lucid invitation
and i would be a fool
to think that the offer
was given to me alone.
Many rest in her shade
while the birds of spring
sing the chorus of new life.
Yet I am unable to believe
anyone else could ever
be so lucky as I.
You smile and admire yourself
through the rippled reflection.
I want so badly to uproot you-
to take you home-
and place you bedside.
But you are married
to your place by the lake.
And I am married
to mine.

A stolen bike

A very dear friend
once had the most
beautiful bike
I had ever seen.
I used to watch
him with it, wishing
I could ring the bell
and change the gears.
Then one day
while my friend
was away for the
summer, I went
to his house and
stole his bike.
I rode it
over and over
until the tread
had worn out.
He knew,
when he returned
and saw his bike
used and unlocked,
he knew it had
been steered by my
hand. But I never
confirmed my act-
only my love
for that beautiful bike.

Hindsight

I walked blindly
today into a
garbage dump
tripping over
countless doggy bags
and wayward dolls.
Had I only known
that the seeing
eye dog that
was sold to me
was in fact
blinder than I was
I might have
brought my cane
and taken the
bus instead.

What I'm really saying

If I tell you you look nice
you would say it's been
said a thousand times like that.
If I whisper I love you
you might say it's been
whispered a million times like that.

But
What if I look deeply at you
and ask for the chance to honor
your darkness and light,
with every breath and step
until I speak and walk no more?

Well now,
then you might say that no man
has ever loved you
as completely as I.

So my dear, when I say
you look nice
you will know
what I'm really saying
is that I'll love you always.

End Page

So it is that my hours
and countless moments of fantasy
culminate here, in the
last page of my blue notebook.
Kisses, one after another,
for the one or two times
you smile each week.
Where will your smiles go
from here? Who will write
of your beauty when I've gone?
Someone should.
Someone should grab
a blue notebook and write how
amazing these peaks are to behold.
Yet I, your most loyal
surely will be forgotten
for a more impressive group of letters.

Love Song

I remember now how cold winters can be here.
The wind has a presence, a certain motivation.
It can be violent-or subtle-or both.
Patiently, it will search out the cracks in your layers,
to find where you are most vulnerable.
My wine helps, or so it seems, at night
when my reflection's transparency is delicious.
To me, you are in hell-against all help to remove you-
yet I would stay there and burn for an eternity
if you walked me through.

Oh sweet one, why do we kid ourselves
and waste smiles on others we know
are unmatched?
Have we chased our dreams to safer deposits? Why?
Have you and I not learned yet
we were meant to be?
How many times must fate refill our glass
before finally bellowing last call?
Why exhale another breath
if it's not returned with your own against my face?

Neither is more to blame,
each has cast the other
aside at different times.