Whole of our Heart

Turned up radio, tires slipping over wet asphalt. heart slipping on ice. Two days of rain. tomorrow they say ..."sunny and clear "
blue skies over gray. a long wait for someone special. the wait for snow. I'll take that.

There are two roads since she's gone. this way and that. up and down. I notice nothing of red lights. all green lights from here to the east. I've gone north and south. dizzy with the thought of drink on my tongue. I'm healthy again. A good sign she still thinks of me.

I thought of a cabin in the woods or seaside shanty , a house boat , a sail boat. then back to mountains. chopping wood, growing a beard. building a fire. books stacked to a ceiling made of cedar. writing is isolation. a desolate place. its like being dragged to the bottom of a pool except your able to hold your breath- endlessly. you can look up and see the sun refracted through the water. you should be drowning but instead you're in the silence. i can hear my blood. my heart beats in a pattern. everything frequency and patterns and nothing lasts forever, not the memories tattooed into my skin,  not even me writing it down for you to read someday.  
 
A song without words. miles of rain slicked highway. accelerate. stay alert. oncoming high-beams become hundreds of  tiny moons. the only sound the tapping of keys. some impossible way to get you to notice me, but I must be dead for there is nothing but blue snow and the furious silence of a howling wolf.

longest kiss of the year

there were storms today.
after the storms,
bliss.
a slight change in temperature.
tingly skin.
the longest kiss of the year.

the devils hand reaches-
to remind me of you.
please, i said.
"whisper me
the words of your god."

Carving through bone

House clean. oven hot. the windows open with light pouring in- warm smells of food and clove. Football chatter coming from the T.V. Tennessee scores again.
I played my guitar out on the porch for awhile. strum and hum. I need a high and low voice to back me up. A me and a you. Ive written lyrics for this im working on but they are vague. It's more the feelings. when i woke up I decided on a melody but it sounded to much like something ive been listening to all week. That happens, you hear or read something and you can't help for it to sink into you. Then you have to release it somehow. It shows up your art. Im thankful for the inspiration.
I like the sounds from outside. the birds and motors low hum, the cars that pass. I think the entire neighborhood is cooking all at once. Everything smells so good. The air and the sky is amazing.


We don't share memories of having holidays together. Not my birthday or yours, not valentines, thanksgiving, christmas, not easter, not halloween. We have between all that. The in between. We are the love in between. We have become our own holiday.
I glance over at the night stand. I can make the shadow of my watch. Something familiar. Something me, something from home.
I'm in her bed under blankets. I am wrapped safely in her lies. She is drowning in mine.
we keep breathing. now and after. Time won't wait for us.
My watch keeps the time. Its touched you, it's spent the night in your room. When i last looked at it I was with you. I'll look again someday and be somewhere else. With someone else.

I wonder how it would look worn on your wrist. Heavy and big with glowing numbers illuminate the cool darkness. hands, to count our minutes and hours to count when we meant something and when we didn't. the fall. the falling apart. when you call me I will note the time. I will remember when you say goodbye. I will say...at two o clock tomorrow i will be over you.

I don't think you ever really move on from someone. you just make room in your heart for new people.