deeper than words

losing,
what was never yours to begin with.
the story is only as good
as the villain.

I look at you,
and time is never enough.
in the meantime
you’re growing up in front of me,
knowing all that you will be.

burn the words
written in these books.
lessons already learned,
nothing left.

can’t seem to quiet
the voice in my mind.
the one that
makes me wonder
if I did good or bad
or if it could have went better.
so when you see me stare
at a point in space
touch my face
let me feel your warmth.
because, if you ask what
I am thinking about,
of course, the answer will be
“nothing”.

the pain
fighting for control,
powerless in the moment.
—
patiently waiting
for perceived clarity,
in what has yet to come.

path uncertain,
guided by the
faintest of lights.

things happen,
as they should.
meant to be.

on a cloudless night,
surrounded by darkness,
the smell of cedar
lingered in the brisk air;
the only trace
of a flame that,
hours earlier,
burned so bright.
—
through the motions of life
forgetting what the night sky
really looks like.
obscured,
is the beauty
hidden in plain sight
by the bright lights
and growing distractions
that the city
so effortlessly provides.
—
the light show
of planets and stars
was just spectacular.
the heavens always intrigued him,
perhaps,
the only real constant
through the passage of time.
those very same stars,
admired by those
who stood before us.
—
the beauty,
in plain sight,
not able to be hidden.

il tuo odore,
la tua pelle,
il tuo calore.
—
tutto di te’,
un invito irresistibile
che non so ignorare.

a game of patience,
a deep breath,
another card added.
—
a moment of pause,
scheming on the next move.
that benign pause,
was long enough to watch it fall down.