where do i run to? hands of fear creep up my legs, over my chest and settle around my neck. i want to shut out all the noise; the sounds too severe for my level of tenderness. i close my eyes and wait for you to finish your work but you linger, waiting. what is left for you to take? hope was surrendered ages ago and all i have left is my will to live. do you want that too? will you be satisfied with an empty shell, void of heartbeat, empty of soul.

i think you might not have your hunger satisfied even then. do you want this body itself? will your thirst evaporate when you feast on my veins? i want you to leave me be and yet, their is warmth with you. the heat of your anger, the ardor of your maniacal craving somehow fills this space with temperatures higher than the empty without you. am i destined to sit in the stillness of your longing until you pass from this life? perhaps my patience will last longer than your persistence. pain ebbs and flows like an ocean of darkness. all i want is a desert of a chance.

the causation of this listlessness is a mighty wave of ambiguity. this is a space that i am not used to occupying. my range has vacillated between cold hate to hot love. yet, here i am. moved, but there is nothing underneath my feet and yet i feel as if the water below me supports and all that remains. i hold on to these pieces because they are all that i have; all that i am. each element is a fragment of what i could have been if not for you. you were the hurricane and the eye of your storm was a rage that knew no end. fires that torment the love until it glows hot and dissolves until there is nothing left. now, you are not here. now, i remain.

what will i become? who will i become? what becomes of the who the i was and how do i become more than what you were? i am now the one who controls these movements, so i have decided to just let the current take me where it wants. after all, the life that i leave behind bares the marks of death. the only way forward is to trust the ebb and flow of life and to just let go.

standing in the warmth of a summer gone astray, you were gone. i knew as the wind moved that painted tube of steel and wires through the air that nothing would remain the same.

perhaps it is the sea that separates us, each wave building a dossier of disconnection, building and churning until all hope is drug down into the depths? do you know what it feels like to long for the unreachable? to hold out hope for the nothingness of unrequited attention? there is movement below, heartbeats and headaches, low expectations covering lies of the heart. our timing is still in synch, like the rise and fall of the tides. hope is out there, somewhere in the abyss, wasted and wanting.

we could fool ourselves if we wanted to, but the twinning between us is like a labyrinth of tangled wires, hot soldered and unyielding. you feel it too, do you not? all the days between then and now are tainted with you and i find myself still unable to part with your presence. my dreams are tinted with memories of unspoken diatribes, transmitted by single looks and gestures. there is no amount of life that can kill this. you know.

maybe it is the way that i see that causes this quandary. it feels as if i am sitting at the mouth of something new, ready for escape, oars in hand, feet bracing, but the darkness behind me is where you remain and my back will not let me move. so, i sit and wait, not sure for what. but the brilliant sun ahead of me taunts and almost convinces me that there is life just beyond the shelter. if i turn around and look for you, will you remember what each glance means? will you follow? will you find me? please?

it started within a moment. i have always felt that moments are not just singular events; they are a cascade of tiny interactions, wrapped in porous space and time. this fragment within a moment started while standing in a sea of tweets and i had finally had enough. enough of the vitriol, the snark and the sarcasm. for years i have subjected myself to this noise and it was only getting louder and more transparently unsettling. and so, before the moment could escape me, i stepped away.

just sitting in the stillness was good for me.

it is part of my chosen occupation to spend time with strangers, some of whom i have wished were geologically closer to me. others i have been sustained to know that there is distance between us. every share is necessary when you are building a life based on spreading little teases of creativity. but there comes a point where no amount of return could make staying in the stream of absurdities and tirades worthwhile. so, i did not let the moment finish before i made a decision to not return to that same space.

the stream still exists and i must send out my floating leaves into it, but i don’t have to look anymore. the flow is always there and the promulgation takes care of itself. instead, i came here and started to do something that i have missed. i started to think in my language, the language of kindness, calm, shades of morning grays and listless fogs.

if you are one who needs to express but who wishes to do so in a safe space, then i welcome you to spend time with a delicate man. all others who venture here will do one of two things: they will stand and stare at the musing and mystery, wondering what sort of soul conjures such a space. all the others will leave. the air is too fresh for foolish breathing and those who sustain themselves on toxic fumes have no share in this sanctuary. like silence drives away those who cannot bear to bask in it, they will leave.

i want to share beautiful things with you. sounds that spark with just enough flame to ignite polished passion. art that insights and uplifts. other people who think first, act after and pay attention to where those actions take them. poetry to causes the heart to slow and the mind to wander.

i am grateful to have along with me any who understand that to be intuitive is a double edged sword. those who understand that to be a feeler is a gift with responsibility. when those two elements make up the core and find themselves wrapped up in the quiet intensity of introversion, marvels can happen. and marvels are not to be missed. they happen in the middle of moments and if we hold our breaths together, the moment might just linger.