i am only me
let me be on my own
so you noticed my selfish streak
you are lucky i even use the telephone

love does not come in a bunch –
of freshly arranged flowers
because love is not prearranged
it seizes the second, the moment, the hour

how it should be
and i do not disagree
but, you are not me
just as i am not you

lost keys
very nearly meant
stormy seas
that lap at our dreams

but, do not lose your hunger
all adversity
will make us wonder

Looking Through People looking through people seeing the core it is like the darkest of pictures with brush stroke flaws … More

if it was different
if it was sane
we would leave it all behind
and embrace the rain

if it does move in mysterious ways
that it is a bloody craft
that dictates our days

and as a child –
i dreamt of steam trains
and then, for a while
all was calm again
i ran through a rage