before you're gone

 

before i knew it, i had misplaced summer. your hand in my back pocket, a  tourist in my own town. beach towels and a pirates map. i was never your prude. always wine. always gold. always above. always under.
 I have a good mix for this, i have certain songs in my head. life is moving within a sound track. numbers, patterns. collisions. near misses. beats that make you melt and sway.  there was the holiday party. drunk kisses under garnish. before you go, before you sleep. frost on our lips. a hug so tight. it's obscene. before you close your car door and head home to him.   

before the end of this something- something - or anything and then winter. I drove my truck to the grocery where they sell Christmas trees out front. the cool air and smell of pine. i fall in love with pretty faces, pretty words. pretty sunshine. with blood on the snow, anything, everyone. you.  I made you hot chocolate and we sat by the fire pit in the back-yard. I hate everything about endings. the last moment. the last kiss.
the last
word.

messages that fall like snowflakes

frost on the car windshield, or ice, i don’t know. I'm unfamiliar living in south Florida with the terms, with cold-  brisk winds, with what most probably view as usual winter.  LL Bean flannel shirt, cafe racer motor cycle jacket, over doing it. how many more times will i get to wear this? to look heavily clothed. to feel warm and  secure. false warmth, false security. I'm over doing it because that's what i do. it's that good or that bad and nothing in between.Yet, in between is where i live. the devil between us.

 I'm making it out to be colder than it is, I'm making it hurt more than it does or should or ever would. she didn't hurt me has bad as i say. Ive almost forgotten. Almost.

 its not really that cold out. but, what I'm feeling isn't fake. it never is, it never was.  I want comfort. warm. do you remember what warm feels like?

the sky is clear. night. day. night. somewhere there is wood burning.  it smells like mountains and pine trees. like my cabin in the woods. like the dream i have of a cabin in the woods. books and music piled floor to ceiling. a dog by a fire in twitch sleep. breathing. always forever breathing.
music with horns or piano, string bass. maybe cellos. music for the lost loves and pets and family. winters we spent silent. guitar drone the lyrics you can’t quite make out. this is vague. these are my words and my arms around you on a cold night. warm.