A Sword Stuck In The Stone

I find you under my fingernails
in the deep pockets of my jeans
in my hair running my hand over it
on my shirt's crumpled collar seam

I wait for you at the bottom
of a coffee cup or maybe two
a new pack of cigarettes is hope
and the last I smoke is rue

your absence is the present moon
your evidence my tired, silent voice
I hear you in the melody of rain
disdain's the ache of love's choice

a photo frame sits on a mantel
dismantled the owner stares long
a cold in the room has the tune
of the sword in the stone's lovesong

Simonne For So Long

friend, cake doesn't taste the same without you
and alone I empty my reckoned coffee cup too soon
I think of you at so many turns, on so many roads
I think and wish in yearn I didn't feel so alone
I can't yet come back and you can't yet arrive
but the home in my heart for you keeps lit the porch light
so, when in the night you reach to dial my number
remember I'm here and duly requite your hunger
and even if your voice, I await to again hear
I know all too well your love for me made clear
distance doesn't erode what's etched to souls' closeness
there's a picture of you and I old together I'm shown this
with every instance between us that owns life a bit more
and forever's not long enough for this pleasure so sure

Curiosity Corners

finally naked and wreathed you and I lie here still
a thin sheet between us; the heart's ill will
still, eyes upon on the ceiling's patterns I can't remove
the candle's amber dimming, through the room strewn
light touching the corners, our curious fingers meet
entwined in the covers; the truth of lust's beating heat