With my every aching moment
and with every breath I take,

I can even feel her near me
which I believe is not a mistake !

Because I know in my heart of hearts
she's out there looking for me, too!

The problem we seem to be having is
certainly nothing that's considered, new;

Down every hallway, history has completed
the answers will be lieing somwhere out there;

sometimes the shadows will end-up camoflauging things,
so the playing fields may appear to be unfair

the river holds its curve
felt by the urge
this push from the chrome stream dream head
pulse rush race
turquoise slick tile

old grout with its black
lick of mold

with vacant slits of black

torrents of current
stroking tangled darkness
the raceway to the open
whorl
the drain to slip away
the room of rain

wishes misted on the glass
heat and steam
and dreams falling fast

I remember your hands
and their journeys,
firm and sure
they planed my hips,
and smoothed thighs
to abandonment

you touched my eyes
asleep,
as if you could see
the visions of want
in my dream,
rimming my lips of the taste
lingering from my last meal,
(sometimes you)

your hands haunt me
like ghosts of themselves
where once, you would need
to feel the pressure of us

now,
you pick me up like fine china
and press my hands to your lips
as if sipping tea

...
You are that Rose!
that many don't deserve
and when you leave their garden
to them abandon
then alone they will know
the loss of their loving Rose

you are gifted and wonderful,
too many other gardeners
would love to water you...

hope the message is taken
and well understood
many a planter then has cursed oneself
for not having praised and timely too
ere they strayed to plough
to greener pastures
they thought…..