winds carry your voice
through the trembling night to me —
do you then still live?
if I see you in my dreams,
does it mean you’re still out there?
waka
angels and demons, and goddesses
dripping just like blood,
the rain off her umbrella —
she speaks, and I dream;
if such a goddess exists,
why must she come to haunt me?
caught
if only you’d see
how much you once meant to me —
would you then come back?
I have regrets, and yet I
somehow just keep making more.
historical horizons
seen in the distance,
our forgotten promises —
lost to stormy skies;
I have to believe it could
have gone any other way.
soft reflections in the glass
twinkling like the stars,
your eyes gaze at me gently —
just a reflection;
this moment, night becomes day
and the soft stars wash away.
distance
wavering slightly
like a tree branch in the wind —
now, our memory;
sometimes I think that I’ve cried
all the tears I’ll ever give.
singularities
brought nearly to tears
by a single word or phrase —
memories of you;
even the sound of your name
is still enough to break me.
following
under the street light
a man walks and drinks alone —
followed by a friend;
there is no better return
than that for our compassion.
raw and tender
although your eyes are
all the colors of the sea —
they make my heart hurt;
hurt because I want to love,
hurt because I cannot live.
wanderers
waiting out the day
as though tomorrow will come —
assuming nothing;
under the darkest rainbow,
we act like we are alive.