It was something
about that December day...

Poets write of loneliness
where knuckles lay straight and fingers beg...

Well,
darkness never...

Your mother has been worried
about the exit wounds on your shoulders...

Dear Valentine,
There's something about February that...

I can't find you anymore
and there's a landslide in there...

I'd move earth to hold you in a sweet embrace...
My heart strings play a melody like elegant cords...

I had
every intention of...

When you write
I feel my muscles detach from my spine...

I've never been able to write a heartfelt love...
Yet I shall still attempt to write this one just...

Your destruction;
lies upon my heart...

You once told me, through the quiver
of a lazy street light that I was a twin to the...