When the chips are laid down, the poetry doesn't come and the gray just wont warm whatever runs sluggishly through my veins.
Either love really does mean everything, or none of this means anything.

The clouds don't exist,
no spun sugar caressing the mountain tops with illusive dreams.
I'm running the rainbow through my fingertips,
and I wonder if the sun is shining
behind that blinding orb so many miles away.

The fire in my veins
mirrors the flame in your eyes.
We're both sleeping, and long run-out on fuel.
And this polyester cloth I'm wrapped in keeps me warm enough
that I can pretend I'm still breathing.
It's not the freedom of movement that matters,
but the style in which you travel.
The smoothed edges of these hills,
the yellowed grass, the deep-green forests...
a beat of old music and even the air smells like haven.
And I'm seeing it through this dirty glass.



I'm traveling across the universe, but I cant find you.
Not in the cosmic lightning storms,
not the spinning of the universe on its axis.
Not even the collision of atoms
and how slow time moves at such speeds
can bring to me the amazement necessary
to see your face when I close my eyes.

But here, everything is backwards.
Where home searches for you, and
and
and I can hear the smell of these woods,

(yours or mine)?

the
taste of this unrelieved pain,
the texture of a bitter-sweet, sunny day.
And always, memories mock me.



I kissed a raindrop running down your face
on a day that didn't exist.
You were too busy crying to remember my smile,
while my teeth failed to hold back the poison.
So I mistook tears for sunflowers,
for morning dew reflecting shooting stars.

We'll make a wish that nothing will change
and I'll pretend that raindrops are always salty.
It is, after all, New York City.
As it always is, in my dreams.

Join me on the edge of the sands
and I'll kiss those smoothed scars away.
And when the sandstorm comes in
I'd be fine with going blind.

And one last toast:
To broken words
and empty vistas
lacking nothing but you.
Welcome home.

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