Those little lanes
Keep haunting me
With their icy surfaces
Or sided with weeds.
I do not miss them, but
I am plucked out of them
Like an unwanted,
And for that I keep thinking
Myself back there
Walking
by yesterday’s
Long forgotten
Dreams.
Like a premature February Flower
She turned and twisted
Adjusted to any light and warmth
Offered by the moody
unpredictable sun.
There is a quiet longing
After a night of rain
As though those murky
Pools mirror perfectly
the loss of the freedom
We find in our nocturnal
Dreams.
Burns of your longing are tattooed
On my skin
Where everything used to be
Soft and smooth.
We are lovers
Learning how to mourn
A lost future, and still walk
In each others promised
Footsteps.
Sail onward
white-winged ship
let me watch
as you
drift into Heaven
take my longing
with you
for it is already
a part of your crew
Could I lie once more
in the breathing brooks
of twilight dim
and fill my heart
with each haunted place
I saw upon your lips
I would walk again
through winds of dreams
as though I was a ship
a’blow, adrift
to the shore
of yesterday’s last kiss
