Memories hang onto banks of
sight and smell, of sounds being
washed and carried somewhere
away, where plants that fall at
the feet of the receding sun,
recall no sunset nor where it
has gone, and rocks before dark
clenching leftover warmth, co-
lections, excessive day breakings
and dawns, a heart implores up-
wards to full empty sky, where
traces of red and some thing you
and I, saw as we looked at each
other below, diminishes

A voice fades on the inside
though it’s called through re-
collection and the time weighs
more at night time, sensing
depth, space, and dejection.
Daring dreams to prove the heart
that sound and scent were
soft and sacred, and return that
self-same blood which traveled
outwards; nearby spaces. For
we moved and stirred as one, while
counting hairs that fell upon two
chests like stars, caressed by the
hands of God

The stars become reflections as
eyes are running through them,
searching for connection, the past,
the now, the new and a longing
that’s outgrown, a body, face and
nature, the world becomes a new
one, the stars regain their failure