Waterfall Of Words

I closed my eyes
to only see
a waterfall of words….
torn hearts
on paper sheets
and rusted ink –
the darkest hue
of blue!

A War Of Minds

Courage sits….
on the end of the tongue
while weakness
loads the gun
then hides behind –
bars of sneering teeth.

Then a soldier comes
to show the way
a path to freedom won
only to realise
he’s fighting for his buddies
and friends.

But when the leaves fall
so does his breath
as the cold seeps through
to remind his spine
that’s there’s little reality
in the politicians truth.

--------

He went away so young
with colour in his eyes
but returned –
his body now grey.

Unsure what to do
she holds his hands
while he sits with friends
under the tired
old weeping willow –
a lonely heart
and a man
on an old stone bench…
now worn smooth
with worry…..
and memories.

But in a war of minds
the young girl weeps
while she watches…..
the soldier cry.

Stole His Heart Like A Wolf

There was a full moon
under the virgin clouds
as she stole his heart like a wolf
and he watched sheepishly
while trying in vain….
to disguise himself –
as a man.

But even his tears,,,,
seemed to cry
as his foolish pride
perished in the rain.

All The Angels Hands

I’ve written stories on my heart
of white clouds, stormy days
blue seas – and dreams.

Then one day I woke
and found that I was down
and everything else…. was up
a sand-timer
flipped onto its end –
and time was running out.

Then I met an angel
who reached out with her hand
and all the sand….. began to slow
so I could find the balance
once again – of who I am.

Now as I watch the grains go bye
of life – acquaintances and friends
I strain to see the angel
but the only hand I see –
is mine.

It was then that I had realised
she wasn’t an angel at all
just a dream of mine
for she was just a person
who reached out
to find another hand.

You see –
I’ve written stories on my heart
of white clouds, stormy days
blue seas – and dreams.

But now I know
that when my book is closed
I’ll see and feel
all the angels hands
of acquaintances
and friends.

Where A Young Man Once Stood

Ragged old skin sewn to bones
this tapestry of time
as thick blood, stews through the brain
trickling sludge… that remains behind
thoughts, which gnaw on hardened plaque
rats, who scurry like memories
with long hollowed bodies –
withered simplicity
tethered by youth
an old gnome sits
where a young man
once stood.

Once Again - Night Begins

Down the stairs
into the colour of night –
with a mind lost to stars
while fingers search the walls
for a flicker of a candle –
and feet touch the cold tile of stones.

The pen sits in the well – waiting
dripping cardinal blood red
as a crowd of words witness
a hearts ink…
spilling on pages unsent…..

Arms stretch and toes curl
and the dawn rises
so eyes can conquer a fear
watching….. all the wolves scurry –
as walls begin to fall.

The beauty of the day
is watching birds on wires
flowers dancing on their stems
then the clouds turn dark….
and once again –
night begins.

 

The Joy Of A Complex Puzzle

We meet – and I reach out
to hand you pieces….. of a puzzle
with two kisses upon your cheek
and a journey begins.

Life and friends
some are smooth
while others – have jagged edges
difficult to put together
hard to fit in.

Some puzzles are too easy
as fingers and the pieces blend
little stress upon the mind
you think you’ve found a friend.

Fifty pieces, smooth and large
a picture easy to define
then one day – one thousand….
a new puzzle found…. and thrown in.

Each day you find a corner
then the challenges begin
and you’re intrigued to solve
by ingenuity, but patients
soon wears thin.

Oh the love of little puzzles
these simple little ditty’s
but the one scattered in the corner
yet resolved – always calls your name
waiting to be solved.

Some friends like little puzzles
easy on the brain
no thought to process
most everything – just fun.

Then you have another
one thousand pieces
tossed into a person
some days it goes together
other days, you throw the pieces back.

But over time, you begin to understand
and all the little pieces
start to fit together
and you end up with very old friend.

That’s the joy of a complex puzzle
they wait for you to figure them out
while they try to understand you.

A puzzle too easy is always fun
but one that challenges you
in the end….. makes the picture more clear
the complexities –
is what makes an old friend
more dear.

 

Their Realities

He never was quite right
different from the rest
where a corner in a class
became his room
and a hat was made in jest.

Normal was the way to be
defined by others
yet un-relayed to him or me.

Can he count
or speak
have him read a word
if he can try two
maybe take his shoes off
so he can get past ten.

What’s that – his feet bounce
and his hands roam around
no concentration in the least
certainly a brain dysfunction
so send him to another place
where he can play with bricks.

-----

Imagine a well
where people stood around
to see the pit
where stimming stood and moaned
like a lost drop at the end of life
as a tongue turned to a fork
in the hope to eat the lies
but as the bucket lowered
each plate was full of truth
bare as bland can be –
as hammered eyes looked down
to forge the soul
of one lost boy
and fill him….
with their realities.

It’s Just Darkness

It’s just darkness
which edges me on
along a narrow road
weary by my side
hope scattered
in my head.

She was a dark horse
no reins to steer
my fingers worn
just a bit.

True friends of another
a constellation in the sky
this star I cannot see
but know is there.

It’s just darkness
which edges me on
to find a road alone
and trust the sun
to wash away the shadows
and lead me home.

 

 

What Happened To Days

As he walks
he hears the creak of boards
bones, long since torn
and stained
his worn out heart
black as a midnight lake
memories, now all alone
lost –
without a home
broken by desire –
taken by the wind
and buried in the sky
he’s left to sit, and wonder
what happened to days
and why.

Softly Embrace

Tender hands
caress me, my face
spaces of the mind
where no shadows lay
just beneath her fingertips
that softly embrace –
this little piece…. of heaven.

 

Echoes Of A Past

I stood and watched the dark
but I couldn’t smell the sea
as the snow began to melt –
and the silence left groves
along the muddy ground
where skipping stones
once danced ~ . ~ . ~ ….
like thin air upon the mountain
which brought tears to the rain
as kisses fell upon my silent lips
and snow began to fall  –
these now muted voices
left echoes…. of a past.

 

Lone Wolf

Silence – would eat my mind
like a pregnancy of soul
an internal gnawing
confessing for its sins.

Yet I thrive beyond the walls
lost to all confines
a maverick in the wilderness
unbranded by all the eyes
and there herd mentality.

So I close my lids
no-longer stranded
by the openness
and dance with the lone wolf –
within.

Now Long Shadows

I’m so weary
of being lost….
within these walls
no room to stand
nor space to think.

So I often crave a garden
a bed of flowers
to help me weep
but the only ones I see
belong to others –
leaving me…..
to just drift on past.

As I’m left
to watch the years
and wander to the sea –
where I close my eyes
and listen to shells
as these too…. are remnants
captured in the dunes.

Where has the mountain gone
which took me to the sun
this spirit of the mind -
now long shadows
washed out…. with the tide.

If I’m lost……
what good is the light –
if you can’t see who I am.

 

 

Walk The Other Way

I had a day
you know the days
like yesterday
where everyone
had the words
and these words
filled the air. 

I took a walk
but where to go
one foot left
the other –
stumbled over you.

I found a spot
and sat awhile
and looked around
but never found an idea
as all the words were stuck
rusted to my mind –
so what was I to do
but turn around
and walk the other…. way.

 

Underneath The Shadows

The dogs were barking
as I sat upon the road
to watch the roar of life
and to catch a glimpse
of sunrise.

What else could one boy do
but say her name aloud
and wash away the blues
then run away somewhere
to find the brightest light
hidden deep –
just underneath
the shadows.

It was only when…..
I breathed in the smoke
and felt my feet aflame
that it would be the last time –
I’d say her name
and recognise
the feel of hopelessness
before…..
I could rise again
to find the love of mine
one day.

 

 

Articulate The Flesh

I watched her lips
and captured time –
such is the grace of life
this divinity of mine –
always the pupil
with a desire to read –
I now rediscover words
that articulate the flesh –
in the adventures of love
from the new book
of longing –
and desires.


 

Was That Me

I look at young eyes
and wonder….
where they’ll go –
will they see places
I’ve never been
or worlds I can’t imagine –
will they drink in
far beyond their vision
or only the seas, I’ve seen –
will they capture moments
or live…. in the solitude
of memories –
will they dream
of nights, I’ve not yet seen
or lavish in the days
too bright for me to hold –
now I look at young eyes
and wonder….
was that me –
a long time ago.

 

A Long Awaited Night

Have you ever longed for dreams
to only find the night –
or taken a piece of day
to impress upon your sight
this vision, which you see
when you yield your heart to love –
that dreams of hope for yesterday
are drawn to you……
for a long awaited night.

 

 

You Are My Dawn

I am your weakness
a single soul of mercy
is your heart
the saving grace
of kindness –
for when I fall
you carry me
till once again, I stand.

So I linger….
in your innocents
the weight of stars
which kiss
the tenderness… of night –
and man.

You are my dawn
and the new beginning –
of my life.

 

Freedom To Grow

In the desert
a tree stands
to show….
the limbs of life –
just beyond
the barren dunes
lives the mountains
where all the trees stand
to show death
the resilience…..
outside the sands
where freedom to grow –
still exist.
 

Like Autumn Leaves

Can I find…..
what I’ve been looking for –
a proposition of love
without the pollution
of life –
innocence
with the clarity of tears
and lost nights….
while watching jilted streaks
tear by -------*
searching – to find space –
passion - - in the stars.

Can I find…..
what I’ve been looking for –
before life –
claims it all –
bright colours gone
with dreams –
and the stars….*
fall – like autumn leaves.

She Knocks

She knocks
but there is…..
no door to open
no windows
to peer through –
she knocks again
but there is…..
no heart inside
to ring a bell
nor is there any love
to answer.

 

 

Scarred

Each word, scarred my skin
as lips turned to knives
and sharpened tongues
bore deep –
tearing past the surface
revealing life - - -
oozing pain.

Each word, scarred the page
as letters tore the fibers
and black ink
seeped –
from a tarnished heart.

Each word, scarred the day
like bloody stains –
on memories……
as once warm hands
which wrote of love –
turned cold.

 

 

Angels Don’t Need Wings

Do your wings
weigh you down
have you found the earth
solid feet_____ on ground
and wiped away the clouds
of a blurry vision ……
this unexpected view
which now shows
your mirrored-self –
where no wings…..
can be found –
but there is a freedom
when the mind
begins to fly –
this reality, which soars
when your heart
absorbs the truth
with a fuel, unlike the rest –
the burning knowledge
this wisdom in the stars
that angels don’t need wings
they only need a heart –
to exist.

 

Impressions

Have you ever look behind
to see what impressions….
you have left.

Were they imprinted
deeply and defined –
or were they raised
waiting for the wind.

Did you see a row of hearts
stretched beyond the eye –
or nothing…… but salty grains
of tears,,,,,, long fallen.

Have you ever kissed the dawn
or spoken to the night –
held the hand of love
said hello to friends.

Look behind……
from time - to time
and face what you can see
so when you begin to walk again
your impression –
may be more defined for you……
and the rest of us –
to see.

Flutter By

I wait for time
but it seems…… to just slip by
while I press my fingers
to the evening sky – in the hope…..
that I can catch a dream.

I stood upon the windowsill
and watched the clouds float by
then sat and rocked a while…..
talking to my knees.

I walked the dog
and he listened quite politely
he never said a word
as I chatted aimlessly away –
but never once did I catch an eye
than again, who could tell…..
as they walked the other way.

I bought a watch – and wound it tight
then listened as it ticked . . . . . .
what a maddening sound that was
which left me with a choice –
to sit and stare and watch……
as time slipped away –
but in the end. . . . . I tossed it out
and bought a book of poems –

Now each day I love to read
and watch in disbelief…….
as the pages fly away –
but that’s the beauty of life and words
like butterflies and dreams –
the magic’s caught in moments
then we watch it……. flutter by……..

You Are A River

You are a river, who soothes me –
in the gentle glow of day
you shimmer and on quiet nights
you whisper….. to the moon.

You are a river, who is free –
while you navigate the coursing wilds –
these constraining banks, of humanity.

You are a river, who rages –
a tempest…. who beats the rocks –
with your racing wrath….
of emotions.

You are a river, who cools my soul –
with hidden pockets full of depth…
yet you have these shallow pools
where only you belong –
and misguided fools can tread.

You are a river, who winds its way along –
who laps the joys of friends…. then you go
knowing there are always knew ones…
just around the bend –
but only wise old rivers know…
that there always –
comes an end.

You are a river, who is learning as you go –
and remember…. those you meet along the way
so when you meet the undertow
they’ll still be with you –
and help you through….
the roughest…. of your days.

 

 

He Watches

He watches
as his face gets older –
sacrifices
of a love…. he never knew
a war, which grew too heavy
a burdened soul
that now grows cold.

He held back
for far too long…..
as he learned
to tame his tongue
and bite his feelings –
until he grew old
without her kiss
a bitter taste of life
which lingers –
till the end.

How Can I Swim In You

How can I swim in you
while lavishing the waves
in a salty brine of yesterdays –
awash…. in struggling tides
of today.

Where is that love
that finds you… in the night
when you’re not brave –
shall I look for you
or will you find me
as you dance….
upon the wind.

Will your sweet kiss
sail to me….
so I may taste your lips –
or will that murky brine
lead me…. to a life –
where love does not exist.

How can I swim in you
when you care not –
to bring your sweet breath of life
to me.

Hollow Words

How can one
decipher hollow words
when –
no substance can be found
and only echoes heard
truths…. of resonating sounds
which float away
like hot breath
in the windy chill….
of despair.

Dull verses
which hold a heart….
at bay –
as even all the lies
begin to cringe
at the sour taste
of foreign words
where certainties – fade.

Where are…..
the spoken words
of truth –
if not in the honesty
of eyes –
where one soul reaches out
and the other……
holds the trust –
a confessional
which now confides.

The Drum Of Life

I am a soldier
with a war
which rages on –
a night in the field
of darkness and hearts
when souls fall
and love fades – –
into a hole
where emotions……
are sacrificed –
on those that win
but they have never won
as broken hearts
are held within –
caressed
by gentle souls and hands
so the drum of life
may beat again.

 

 

Misunderstood

She found an old canvas
covered in dust –
and stripped away…..
the years
but all she found
was a canvas filled
with emotions –
a masterpiece
she’d never seen nor knew.

So she took her brush……
and painted away
then framed it ~~~
with an edge of insecurities.

Then she stood away
and looked
and never understood –
that it was her brush
which took away the colour
leaving the fibres - - -
filled with grey.

Frustrated
she walks away…..
and now the picture sits
unseen and left alone –
misunderstood.

 

 

When Emotions Are Allowed

What lines were crossed
when love became fear
and we chased away
the years –
by hanging on.

Who are you now
where have you been
did you ever love me
or are you –
just another piece of life
whose broken down.

But when you stop
just spin around
and if you see a candle
then you know
you’re welcome home.

But if you see the darkness
let your tears begin to fall –
maybe then……
you’ll understand
how hard lost love is
when emotions are allowed
to hit the ground.

 

 

The Weeping Willow

I watch the wind
and the weeping willow
the branches  
as they sigh –
the tears of the rain
falling from the skin
these leaves….
now shed upon the ground.

I watch the wind
and the weeping willow
the branches
as they sigh –
now dancing to the earth
with laughter…..
as the branches pirouette.

I watch the wind
and the weeping willow
wishing it were I –
a canopy of life
well rooted……
yet unashamed to cry
or dance upon a moonlit eve
or sing a song….
to the morning sky.

I watch the wind
and the weeping willow
as it gently kisses the grass
all these tender touches
emotions –
which make me sigh.

 

 

Two Weak Hearts

Where are the arms of hope

to stay the chill of sorrow

when each day passes

and one day becomes the next

is this when hearts divide

one belief in pride of stubbornness

yet lives a contradiction

the other, once made of stone

now broken –

their bones of strength….

feeble, have lost the marrow

like an old friend

misplaced of courage

and cannot see the faith

to heal the wounds

where love stands strong

so two weak hearts

can beat as strong as one…..

tomorrow.


 

Evidence Of Human Frailty

She is a shaman
who bangs her tongue
tugging out each word
until they’re all wrung out
which in the end
shows the brutal reality –
evidence….
of human frailty
transforming her
from a creature
to a woman –
I love.

Lost Tomorrow

She painted her lips
so she had something
to hide behind
and tore the letters
from their words
so she never had to listen.

And as she lingered….
in the shade of life
distorted were the sounds
which invaded her ears
when really all she wanted
was the silence.

But is the beauty
that she paid for
worth the time of day…..
that they borrowed –
or just another lost
tomorrow.

Left No Impression

What he knows – is how to fall down
how to scream aloud
how to wander around
and swallow pride.

You can say what you want
but the moon… is the only one
who’ll understand
and it knows……
that the anguish in his sea
is a life of things
that cannot be undone.

So they all watch
as she plays the tide…..
and washes out to sea –
his footprints far behind
so when he looks back
no longer is there a trace
- of him.

His shoulders hunched
as if a weight pressed him down
what else could he do
but avoid his own reflection
as he thought about her
but no longer
could he see himself
as he then knew –
he had passed through her life
and left no impression.

As You Lay On Solitude

Somehow,
you already made your choice
when you slammed the door
in the face of your own irony
this closed off room –
filled with token games
mockery….
and scorn.

But what about the tears
when they roll down….
consequences cheek
like a repetitious singer
who always sings the blues.

You forget about those people
all those left behind
a crowded room of sorrow
you say aren’t worth your time
not even the old soldier –
who dies in the end.

So have you ever seen the darkness
as you lay on solitude
a bed that’s far too worn
a pimp or prostitute
of friendships now forlorn.

But we still think of you
and wonder –
did you ever open up a new door
where an old friend lives
who despite the other people
he let you in
because he knew the cold of winter
and seen the change of warmth –
in you.

 

 

It’s Not Too Late

We are losing the sky
when stars go out
and the light of eyes
fade away.

We are losing love
when veins run cold
and no words –
are exchanged.

But don’t tell me
that we are dying
when I can see the light
and the new stars you made.

It’s not too late
when love can change
as each new dawn
is a brand new day
and your stars tonight –
bring hope
for a new tomorrow.

 

 

Still - In The Air

He tumbles out words
to lighten –
his despair.

Yet still he can’t breathe
as his thoughts are heavy –
and drenched…. of her.

If only it was simple….
to stop feeling
as he can taste the bitterness
of words
which now remain – still
… in the air.

There Stood The Garden

There stands
a single rose –
a thorn
with sweetness
within its folds.

There stands the weary vase
half filled with water
to drink from –

There stood the garden
where the ballet –
was born.

Now where stands
tranquility –
where a friendship
once formed.

In The End

A different style, from my normal writing:
===================================

You thought you had a heart
like a queen on a page –
a hard card, with torn edges
a song…. without a note or a promise –
just words, which are weapons
you’re an obstacle, who inspires
with big dreams
but a soul…. which isn’t rich
you’ll end laughing alone
at the end of the day –
like an echo……
which cries out…. in my head
until my eyes found the wall
no exits – so I couldn’t get away.

So I said –
where you live, is where life is now
and nothing changes
but she took me to the top floor
so I could see the world
a breath of life
with a pocket of dust –
and a worn old penny
so we could see what haunts me
and she said
I often think of you
and it’s not a room of rumours
so why cry
you can’t escape on a tear drop
and home –
is where acceptance lives
and isn’t that what matters –
in the end.

 

 

I Hope To Find The Sun

I won’t be coming back
because the days are growing cold
life is like that – when….
too many hearts are being folded
and arms are being closed.

So an ending must begin
and the curtains
they can flutter.

That’s when I feel so old
when the stage –
turns to dark
and my love….
turns cold – .

Yet everything
still feels all right
that’s when I become alive –
but tonight……
I won’t be coming back
for tomorrow
I hope to find the sun
just below the moon.

I Call Your Arms

How do you not drown
when she sheds a thousand tears –
or break –
when you carry all those words
too many
too long.

What happened to that freedom
when feelings
didn’t turn to lies
and that fire –
didn’t burn….. her flame.

If you looked inside
you’d understand the same
no words to fuel the fire
or wind, to falsely fuel….
that natural desire.

Pull me closer
swim to me
touch me with your fingertips
kiss me with your eyes….
and cheer me up
with little words – that tenderly
make love to me.

So don’t be that strong
because my heart…
is stronger – than that
and all I want…..
is to be within….
that home –
I call your arms.
  

The Reality of Me

From the outside –
what do you see…..
as you peer in at me
do you see what you believe
or this feigning mirror
made from make-believe
or do you see
the inside –
past the veil
which shrouds
the reality, of me.

Faded Memories

You try to understand
on one hand -
everything makes sense
but the other hand
a piece of van Gogh's ear
a distorted story.....
just filled with lines - - -
a pretty little puzzle
with smooth round corners
light hair and eyes
then jagged little pieces -
majestic, in appearance
with clarity and thought
until you hit a dark wall
and no crystal ball -
to see.
then nothings left-
but smoke and mirrors
and faded............
memories.

Forever – Is Not That Far Away

I found myself
in my voice, but –
still need to breathe
and one breath…..
is not enough
as I drift along
at the bottom…..
of this minds – sea
but is fear enough
or just too much
when you have…..
a crying tongue
and each word
follows…. too close behind
and your lips….
fall out of love
but they can’t tell you why
just that forever –
is not that far away.

Well Of Words

Have you ever drank
from a dusty well of words
or choked on the fat….
of longing –
or seen the life - - -
fade from her eyes.

As each brick
slides….. all the way down
deep –
into the circle.

A bonfire –
of destitute and phrases
and thoughts…..
like rats, which scurry by.

Dot's and marks…..
and scribbles
words which make us cry –
but can you not throw your pail
and pull-up –
just those simple words.

The ones….
which make you smile!

Long Gone

Long gone
is the rhythm of raindrops -
as he fades into the silence
like mist.... on a summers day.

Faint ink......
voices now unheard
such moments erased
as if the words - - -
just leaked away.........

Short Untitled

His face pressed – creased
against the sidewalk of reality
as forever marches by
an endless stream –
then nothingness
but an echo…..
and a cry.

For Her Sins

She always runs
when feelings fail her
unsure of what to do –
best to drink the loneliness
then chase down the sun –
but maybe she just needs him….
for her sins…..
yet all he wants to do
is lift the shadows –
so the darkness……..
can see the light –
before she falls apart
and the only thing left
is the sad reality
and the human game –
of broken hearts.

Crimson Tides

Crimson tides, washed in waves
while dancing on white satin
on these lonely distant shores
a dreamer's paradise
or life filled with skeleton keys
in a home, which has no doors
and ceilings – without floors.

Where is the reason
hidden behind a pale moon
when there is no truth to see
so you lay with eyes wide open
wishing they would close
while peering out the window
at the rush…. of humanity.

Catch the glimmer on crimson tides
as seasons swing and change
and windows open wide
while dancing on white satin
just a dreamer's paradise
in the middle….
of the night.

So Divine

Her voice is honest
with eyes that tell the truth
a splash….. of purity and soul
which soaks through skin
and gets behind the broken walls
to give a little kiss
these rhythmic hymns
vibrations –
that penetrate the moon
surround the night
and take me home
to a place she knows –
I know.

Her voice is honest
like silk thoughts –
that swim upon the night
and satin lips
slippery upon mine
such texture – –
so divine
with eyes that tell the truth
soaking into skin
and gets behind the broken walls
and touches me – within.

Start My Day

I stand and breathe
to root the calm
and watch the clouds
which sweep the sky –
to watch my breath
in mornings dawn
to feel the smile
and not the frown –
to feel the wind
and the flowers bloom
as I watch the whitecaps
on horizons waves
and the sails…..
which fill my eyes –
as I breathe out…..
and start my day.

Flickers Along The Edge

The candle in our heart
a flicker of a flame
does one.....
laugh or weep
to the sound –
of the wind.

Fleeting air
which flees....
to find the summer twilights
now no different –
then the place it fled
as it flickers ......
along the edge.

Without The River Or The Moon

What is life
without the river or the moon
when one day you're there
and then one day more…..
there's less of you.

But then again, everything….
exist outside that door
so if you walk to the end
you may just see…..
a different view.

Or tears…….
scraping at the earth
like a purpose –
hidden behind the eyes….
commandeered –
by the moon.

Yet how many tears…..
fill an ocean –
if the river is you.

Breathless

Cold are the words
when buried deep
only to be dredged
burned and kept.

What angel are you
travelling which roads
open arms, without devotion
no freedom found here
just quivering lips.

Before I knew you
I was just a guest.

A mirrored wall
but no reflection
just a past
without direction –
no secrets
Now –
just breathless.

Melting Moon

There's nothing left but sheets
tangled words and memories
and precious fragrant seas –
blind love
lush lips with fields of dreams
fading spirits of day
don’t slip away….
pin me to your heart
crush me with your pounding skin
call me by my name
turn the lights off
sit a while –
we'll watch……
the melting moon.

My Cure

You are my medicine
a substance –
which my soul drinks in
to restore its health.

You are my reality
opposed to the appearance
of shadows…….

You are essential –
indispensable, and….
the very essence
of who I am.

You are the complexity
the interconnected parts
of all my variables –
and the compound…..
which, composes me.

You are my medicine –
your arms –
your love –
my cure.