Manna

Ethereal petals
cascade
from the heavens—
departing from lips
aromatic
as coriander seeds
and sweet as myrrh,
to kiss upon
deserted shores
of powdered glass,
where men meander
before dawn,
taking pause
at the waking sun
and the promise
of petals to come.

vagrant

the vagrant ponders,
“If home is where the heart is,
where has my heart gone?”

i am mad.

i tried to capture you on canvas,
to paint away my thousand thoughts,

each stroke held so much weight
each line read so heavy.
my canvas became slathered with consonants,
my characters curled into words,
my words combined like compositions,
and I, a man caught under current
craved for concrete at my soul.
i felt my easel strain underneath
the gravity of my yearning,
my brushes shatter
at the frenzy of my hunger
but i continued to
to smear crimsons onto canvas,
consciousness onto cloth.

and with my sanguine stained fingers,
i sank into canisters of conversations
into cauldrons of could-have-beens,
and spread them across my walls,
until secrets slid down my arms,
and whispers puddled
into pools against my feet.
no corner was left unmarked.
no canister left unspilled.
but still I could not
find a way to complete you.
i spilled myself into cans
and spread myself against
thoughts of you
layer against layer
until my paint ran thin
and as I came to my knees
with my arms to my sides
I gazed up at the entirety,
of my insanity,
and understood.
how could i have hoped to capture,
what i had never really known
in the first place?

Yes, I am afraid I love it here,

Yes,
I am afraid I love it here,
here, where your arms
caress mine like petals,
here, where your breath
dews across the nape of my neck,
here, where your memories
lay framed along my drawers,
here…where your scent
blankets every corner of my room,
here, where your garments
lay in delicate piles by my bedside,
here,where your mornings
have decorated my sink….

Why yes,
I am afraid I love it here,
here, where your declarations of love
continue to resound
and echo throughout my walls.

Yes,
I am afraid I love it here,
here, where the heater
has developed cobwebs,
here, where the smellof smoke
has filled the room,
here, where memories
have been stored away,
here, where sinks lay bare
and mirrors have cracked,
here, where prescriptions bottles
sit with their lids undone,
here, where clothes
have littered the ground,

Why yes,
I am afraid I love it here,
here, where your declarations of love
continue to resound
and echo throughout my walls.