Her name is Emma. That is short for Emily. She sits out at the truck stop and makes 50 bucks a week. The tears are a monopoly of everything she rakes. A true and little glance is all that she can fake. Oh gotta go, gotta go today. Another pool another swim to take it all away. Oh gotta go right now. Flush it all away. reach through the clouds and make a better day. Oh Emma, I hope you find your cowboy and ride off in the race. to that greater place.

Sometimes we all need to have a little Marvin in our lives. If you don't know what I mean ask about him.

A steamroller dressed in white, what can it mean? Translucent yet it seems real. Portions seem that of malice, portions of salvation. The divine grace of unknowing ignorance surrounds every soul. A horde of fears, still the last motion of a warm embrace. Circle spinning through the mist in the summer rains. Swimming down to find what we would like to hold. The only treasures a heart can know. Sorry I’ve been away, I haven’t had the time…

Far more than you ask from me are all the things I want to be. I have a plate on the table that is glistening yet the food is slop. Not the kind you deserve. Not the Chicken Cordon Bleu, not the Linguine Alfredo, hell not even a Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich. I wish I could find the moment to make a nice plate of Ranch Dijon Chicken on Angel Hair Pasta. Yes that would do. That would be wonderful. Not so much the meal but looking in your eyes and hearing you laugh as we talk about things that don't matter to anyone else.

Perhaps the days don't come and go. Perhaps it's what is left in my soul. The rocks that I sleep on may be feathers. I have felt them that way. Pourous roofs are only calming in the summer when it is so hot you pray to sweat. Good day work of wet. Alittle less of greedious pray. That way you know there was water yesterday.

The sweet words, profound upon your voice. I'm drawn near and I have a choice. Never again, your voice draws me close. A word that is condiseding reminds me of how I aml so low.

Perhaps the days don't come and go. Perhaps it's what is left in my soul. The rocks that I sleep on may be feathers. I have felt them that way. Pourous roofs are only calming in the summer when it is so hot you pray to sweat. Good day work of wet. Alittle less of greedious pray. That way you know there was water yesterday.

It's always the awkward moment of silence. Pondering if my reach was right. The downfall before she says no. The moment she says yes though. The moment that's been sent and now culminates with an astounding idea. Now what? The dreams I've had, my life so sad. Another breaking point? The dreams are those of candy canes ...and open intentions. God let me know what you want tonight... a new life intervention?

I don't think I've ever heard you speak other than whispers on Angel’s wings. But your eyes bring images of different things. Are you the lustful vixen or butterfly? I see pure smiles yet invitation in your eye. Should I take the chance? No, I’m too awkward at first glance. The right to know you is special in my mind. I will wait for the right time. The last three years haven't been quite long enough.

November 4, 2009

The leaves have caught my attention lately. The hues of orange, red and purple. The changing seasons and a the different reasons for lack of conversation. Can I make a reservation? One change to sit in a park and hear you speak? The words as they flow your laugh tough I don't know. It makes me smile you know. I can only imagine your smile and the way your eye lashes meet when you giggle a bit. rendered only to a dream and a wish. I hope tonight I dream again...