More oldies.

Warrenton, V.A.
revised 11.14.06

I spent all day reading road signs --
green, like your eyes --
and telling myself I didn't miss you.

Not one bit.


Exercises in moving on
Spring 06ish

Thick smoke curls, you
whirl, and dance, and sing,
and breathe deeply,
breathe softly.

Burn your fingertips,
burn your throat and your lungs.
Burn the pictures and the letters --
but the moments are burnt into your memory.

Now breathe faster, sharper, with
heavy pants and frantic whispers.
His hands are on you, desperate.
You're so desperate.

His grip slips with sweat,
sweat earned, sweat you've, wait.
You've got it.
Gasping, uttering phrases and lines.

He doesn't care that you think.
You don't know what you're thinking
...They're thinking.
But that never mattered at all.

And now you're here at 3 a.m.
Cold bricks. Dark night. Sloppy memories.
Be patient; thoughts whirl, and dance, and sing.
Time is waiting,

and you're moving on.