A Touch In Bad Weather

Some people can’t be reached no matter what you say,

Who probably wouldn’t care to feel your touch anyway,

And for all those who need, in some way, to be reached,

Our fingers might wave but they rarely ever meet.

In a dark windy heart there’s cracked glass in the rain,

Palms still untouched can be cut all the same.

Quieting the air with a gesture, I find

It helps, when you reach, to shield your hands with mine.

Those stinging cold moments with warmth underneath

Pour lakes into places overridden with dead leaves,

An Autumn-stained blush from a spring-tinted gaze

Briefly turn skies that were black back to grey.

A Lonely Reward, Cold Satisfaction

Listens to Lo-Fi on her phone,

Admiring the nighttime lights of the city

Through streets blanketed with snow

Where unknown treasures are buried.

Cigarette to her lips

Alongside that sensation around her face,

The teeth of wind,

Is all the satisfaction she can take.

To have hung on,

Lived to see another illuminated night,

Stress momentarily forgotten

Despite the punishing nature of her drive

Is worth rewarding.

She needs something, after all.

Time ever-encroaching

Demands a moment that’s enjoyable.

Dawn spawns the first shadows

As she reluctantly remembers herself,

Retires behind her bedroom windows,

And waits until she can escape again.

 

 

 

Please, Sing Sadly

To me, sad fantasy

Feels better than almost anything.

I’m aware, sensitive,

Permeated by waves of mood.

Everything else

Is a distraction of hope.

Even the desires

That I pine for could do no more

Than teardrop chords

Dancing prettily down your face.

 

Most of us

Want affection in safe hands.

So do I,

But, they just never feel safe enough.

I’m most alright

When I’m thoughtful and alone,

And never more alive

Than listening to you sing sad songs.