A High Enough Bridge

Once, my dreams out past this bridge Living, worked and slept; And each new day I wondered At a love, unchecked. Time was my regard And she my destination, Guided by my heart. Love, they say's, unconquerable, No battle too great; I never found the combat, I Stayed home, and stayed safe. Dreams can be … Continue reading "A High Enough Bridge"

Suspicious of Motive

He said, “Hello. I’ve been wanting to meet you. And maybe we could spend some time — us two?” She said, “Uh-huh. I’ve heard all this before, man. ‘Cause you don’t really know me, now – do you? So many guys go hunting on the weekends. Another trophy – just another deer — Well, dude: … Continue reading "Suspicious of Motive"

it didn’t really matter, did it?

she was the fix that he had to have, he was the habit she couldn't break; love started out with these feelings, true, then it became just a thing to make everything ends where it didn't start, ground ever shifting beneath our feet: theirs was a love that would never end, another stunning unforeseen defeat

Twisted and Interlaced

One afternoon, when we were autumning and such, you asked me when I would, finally, and why not now I never understood, the way that your eyes changed what they saw, making something out of every shifting mass, and yet -- One afternoon, twisted, and interlaced, I answered your question in the affirmative, and you … Continue reading "Twisted and Interlaced"

When You Get Your Chance…

When you get your chance, You fall where the pull takes you; For love is less a walk Than a waterslide When your turn comes, You give up your old rules, Because you realize you have never Really played this game before Ask your questions, But make no assumptions; Dance whenever there's music, And make … Continue reading "When You Get Your Chance…"


you told me to believe you, although i had my doubt; it all seemed hard to understand, but i’m not one to flout a confidence, once given. and so i played my role, and found you quite believable when taken as a whole

archetypes (3)

that night, they celebrated by a few good drinks, a long good cry, and sharing something like a bed when they should have gone home, instead. that morning, they surveyed the mess that’s born of gin-and-loneliness, from separate vantage points and hearts that knew the fits that come with starts