Slumberous eyes — dot, dot — on and off — dot, dash, dot, dot — confess — dash, dot, dash, dash — and place me — prisoner — under her arrest.

Now is not enough;

present cannot hold what

past could not, that

future never would.

If now, then, if when were whole;

one-third were three first, and

three, one at once,

then maybe, as it may be, it

all be enough.

Let’s entertain this affair, you and I;

make love as lovesick strangers,

like one night is all we’ll share.

Let us count the cost, each the other,

turn the page on this pager turner, of

disremembered lovers.

Let’s deny selfish acquirements, and

accept in common our immoral ancestry;

our noon kingdoms, our humid heavens.

Let’s not hold breath again to forget the

excitement of love, for if we do,

let us entertain this affair, me and you.

Labored, labored heart,

bitter be the days beating—

those for and against.

Quick, in quickest sand

set us foot, unfriendly friend,

false step after next.

Though for effort, gold!

We breathe a bit easier—

our uttermost breath.

The horrors of war

made not men of boys so much

as soldiers poets.

That my kiss may be both touch and vision,

let me feel the look of you with these lips.

Foredoomed, for distance, 

jealous fingers kiss keyboards

in place of our sense;

rows of keys, a pitiless

substitute for that of flesh.

Heavens held not time,

neither seasons, rather moods;

handwritten here, here-

after, after life again;

vestiges through versed canyons.

At times I choke 

on that which is wondered 

like breathing water— 

better I drink;

sip through a straw 

waves I’ll not ride,

root beer without float,

poured down the sink.

The taste, disappointment;

I lie on the surface

an auburn leaf to reflect

what truth lie beneath

tendriled creeks and tributaries,

where I shake ghostly hands

in tribute of met expectation

I didn’t meet.