Coffee shop at 3 am
Where I stare into your limped eyes.
Your black hair, in soft waves
Falling off your shoulders
And I watch you talk
The smoke curling out of your mouth.
With each word pushing
The smoky breath out of you,
Your lips arching ever so faintly
When you pause, into that subconscience,
Self-rightous sneer.
When I smile and say that I love you,
You say, I know baby.
With the smoke curling,
And my eyes still sinking
Into those damnbed limped pools.
Later that morning you
Drop me at home,
My apartement dark for the night.
In my sleep I awake, and you
Lay on my chest, looking at me,
With your eyes on my face,
And an ear on my heart,
To hear my breath.
And I smile in my sleep
And say, I love you.
And you will say, I know baby.

The cold breeze that rocks through
the already numbed bones.
Buliding a cocoon of warmth,
in the soft heated sheets.
Giving and taking the warm
until you fall asleep as one,
the cold long forgotten.

Soft brown eyes
Looked at soft borwn eyes.
Across from each other,
They sat.
Long ears and soft brown
Bodies hiding well in the
late winter brush.
How they had found each other
In this semi-barren land?
But here they were looking
At each other, for the last time.

A noise, far off, and one
Is gone.
When the other looks back
After the frightening moment,
She, his other, is gone.
He knew she would be,
She had told him so.
Her lithe body moving
Against his, anouncing clearer
Than any sound,
That she had to leave.

Leaving his hiding place,
He lopes along, away...
Away from the life he's known.
Alone, alone as he has never been.
As the warm air
Brings her scent downwind,
He raises his nose, lightly twitching
And closes his eyes,
Missing her.
And for the first time in his life,
Missing a part of himself, as well.

Soft aching arms reach to hold you
But they grasp only a thought
That passes through them
Leaving a mist like dew
And with you so far, is all for naught?

On my arms I look where the mist should be
I cannot see, my eyes are wet
They too have been touched
By the mist, your mist, that covers
And the distance never lets me forget

That the ache I feel, is my driving need
It will not die till you are with me
Till we have consumed
The fruit: rind, core, and seed.
Till I see your eyes, I can't be free.

Color etched across my memory...
Blazing their trail,
In soft Pinks and Blues,
Framed by the darker Reds and
Greens with the Yellows
Above and Browns and
Oranges below...

That is how you are...

Before, it was as if
I had never know the
Majesty of color

But it has been you
That has colored my memory,
Given it life and love.
And for all of my days,
I'll never forget
How to my eyes you seemed...
In all of your raidient color,
With its delicate shades and
Tender nuances, that I would have never
Have believed possible.

That vision
Is forever etched into my brain.
and on my eyes,
and in my memory,
and in my heart.

And the rebirth of its wonders
That I experianced
Each time I say you,
May indeed be gone...

But they can never be forgotten.

Soft.
Candlewinds.
Desert Song.
Midnight on the Shadows.
Soft.
Plush soft horizons
melting to a puddle of light
only to be born again
in the morning.
Love is in the air
but nothing can be like the
soft, soft, soft.
Sun on my face,
my hair,
wind to my back.
I turn and the wind carresses my arms.
Love.
Sweet love.
Soft.

It was a garden of exquisite beauty,
Sculpted my a caring hand.
A lord's pride
and a lady's pastime delight.

All the flowers in orderly rows,
Except wjere design called for chaos.
Grass of darkest green,
for winter.
And of lighter hues,
for summer.

There was a shed, a small nursury
where they lady kept her irises.
Near to the she sat two trees,
Roots aching to break free
From their terra-cotta prisons.

They had sat close to each other
For a year now, forgotten.
Their leaves and brances entwined
with each breaze.
Growing so close, they almost looked
As one.

It was a shock
When one day, in late winter,
the lady noticed the two
And decided to move them
To where people might adore
their beauty.
For they had grown lovely
With the time.

As her gardener pulled one
Away, it's branches caught
On the one left behind
And broke them all along one side.

The first tree stil looked lovely,
and was placed near a wall of
Climbing ivy.
the second, alone and half broken,
sat alone.

The lady looked at it and said,
"It'll never look the same again,
Just leave it in the back,
Behind the shed."
And that is where it stayed.