I wandered well
along these Roman streets
in the inkwells
of his heart
and I whispered to the stars
a fire that never ends,
a pen that never dries.

// 29 Mar 2021


Just as lunatics need the moon
you are my necessity.

Silvered light
gleams upon the earth tonight,

just as you watch me, I am
made bright.

One look at you
and my heart deepens with a longing.

Wolves howl from a distance
while I sing.

I am made sane by adoring you,
and so I write

one poem at a time
and a thousand more in sight.

// 27 Mar 2021

With All Abandon

I woke up one day without knowing
I have forgotten you.
That between your silence and your absence

I knew nothing
as though all my tomorrows have abandoned me
and all my todays have gone.

It passed by unnoticed, like forgetting
what year it was
or missing the sound of the rain when it came.

Your memory did not come by me today—
I was too busy forgetting you.
As if

I was night without stars
and a brief passing memory of you filled me
with constellations.

But, oh, I cannot do it. I have carved you
in the fibers of my heart,
like a beat, like a smile, like a blink of eyes.

I can no longer recognize you
without you, so much so that when I woke today
I need not remember you.

// 26 Mar 2021

In the Smallest Pleasure of Things

I love him in the smallest pleasure of things—
of how our every poem sets us in the right way,
he’s won my heart throughout the years today.

I love him in the smallest pleasure of things—
of how we push each other to be our best
through fires and storms, wild thrills and rest.

I love him in the smallest pleasure of things—
of how we fumbled in our play with death,
that we saved each other through the rough of it.

I love him in the smallest pleasure of things—
that he loves me dearly and I love him too,
to him I’m bound, to me he’s true.

// 25 Mar 2021

Forget the Dead

Forget the dead, dear love,
raise your chin
and let me see you
for inside you
I know you are immortal.

// 23 Mar 2021