denouement 

Where wonder reigned
habit remains
and memory’s stained
with melodic refrains
dissolved to static
attractions now
only distractions
unworthy of abstraction
and words just
stochastic noise

Still, I stand poised
against a slow demise
holding out for a surprise
ending

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won’t

I won’t talk about your lips
or the taste that I miss
I won’t picture your smile
or the miles walked to see it
I won’t mention mistakes
made in the wake
of better judgement
or resentments brewed
stronger than any stewed regrets
I won’t show the sore parts
of my torn heart
or share the spots
of buried thoughts
crushed with duty
as we moved on
I will conjure images
stark and bare
stained in pink
strained past caring
a setting for you
to exhale my name
and for me to redeem
my dignity

decemberance

you’ve grown tired
and I’m growing old
and we’re both wishing
we’d been less bold
in toying with buds
back when we thought
that spring would bring
enough light
and summer enough heat
to ferment ripened dreams
into distilled desire
that we could harvest and swallow before fall’s call home
but come December
we prefer not to remember
how we failed
tumbling dismembered
only to smother the embers
of our hearts grown cold

degrees of magnitude

You say when you think of me
it’s with nostalgia
a surreptitious smile
spreads across your flushing face

When I think of you
frustration, despair, shame and desire
fuse into a howl of longing
I grimace and cringe

with teeth clenched
waiting for each wave of pain
to finish pounding me
into the dirt by degrees

middle-aged

Now that our days of inspiration
have been quartered
into unrealistic pipe-dreams
feeding repackaged innovations
their intent subtracted
from the bottom line
and our creations
turned into investments
we watch grow
We now can laud
our experience and hindsight
leaving us nothing but
to contrive models
and devise systems
to explain and predict
the paths of even the freest radicals
and the capital to construct machinations
to harness their energy
to warm the comfortable cages
we build to live out the rest
of our pointless days

daily post: age

saving grace

and when our wired limbs
crossed and snagged on intent
were done releasing their tensions
you lay, hair frayeď
mouth splàyed open
with no remorse
for the stains that drained
deodorant clumped
under arms raised
without grace
to take more space
than earned
I took in the waste
grateful for the image
that would serve
to move me past and on
once you would wake
to be so much less
than what I made of you

daily post: patina

so long

it’s been so long
since I’ve heard
anything new
of your days
or your dreams
or the nights
in between
so though it hurts
I must conclude
I don’t know you
anymore

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