more than Time can tell

or eyes can see

more than one heart

could hold, so endless

like a ring, or

a neverending sentence

that starts in the middle,

the cool of the morning

dew-dreams fresh on his lips

and he lights the sky as he yawns

putting his arms around me

he brings the day.

and my heart is snapped

i honestly couldn’t tell you why

i’m up this late crying

and whispering “i’m sorry”s

to the empty air

as i rewrite the past

i’ve lost a friend

the funeral in my heart

parades under his name

though it’s for a piece of me

as much as it is for him.

i want to release

a pandoras box of memories

but i’ve been keeping my hands

carefully tied–

that road isn’t one i should travel.

so i leave the memories

and instead, simply think

about how strange

life is.

i look in the mirror

every day

but

who am i?

i thought i knew

but maybe i dont.

as fluid as a river

leading from land to shore

into the sunset

sunrise

sunset

sunrise

sundeath

a dance

one two three

one two three

from the arms of one day

into the next

and August’s Monday

is nothing like April’s Monday

but you didn’t think of that in August

and you didnt want to remember in April

so we sleep in the middle of December

and January

in the middle of sunrise

and sunest, we dance on and on

drwoning in a river

we dammed ourselves

with the ghosts in the corner of our eyes.

il pleut

de chiffres

et où

où

est le temps

J’écoute l’esprit de la pluie

Dans le coeur de mon guitare

la chanson

des parapluies oubliés

les nuages de hors le fenetre, ils soupient

pour avait tombé du ciel—

les reveneants

des une guerre celestial

live in my past

but fragments of what was

litter my present

each a mirror, a looking-glass

to the past

no, they don’t bother me

i look at them fondly with a smile

while you bury the mirrors

i gave you

frantically, solemly

shoving them beanth the cold earth.

min dance in teh air, in teh corner of my eye.

you

yes, I loved you

yes, I’ve moved on

maybe one day

you’ll stop hurting

and then you could smile with me–

we’ll sit on a swing

and talk of days passed

and you’ll have a whole heart, too

while knowing

mine

doesn’t belong to you–anymore.

tall

he smiles like red firetrucks

1 pair of feet

tall

she looks up to him

brother

and his hug is like a swing

as he carries her down the street

leaving a bread-crumb trail of

kisses

behind them

and sweet surrender

bound by notes

to the heart in his song

he plays on

coaxing a lullaby

my lullaby, i think

from the piano

he doesn’t know

that as his song lilts, so

does my heart

so much is wordlessly said

his fingers dance

across the black and white keys

unlocking the chords

to a heart he’s already stolen.