mementos,
receipts,
and
little shopping bags
remind
of a love
that traveled on.
more poignant than all the words
scratched to each other with love,
a morrisons bag
kicks me in the gut.
the past has passed,
no doubt;
but in constant refrain,
nostalgia digs
with the sweetest pain.
life
is
gorgeous-
The Universe, divine.
To have loved was a gift,
both hers,
and
mine.
Slipped,
between
creased corners
of Night’s gossamer,
Moon,
timid & shy,
slips
softly
in –
which hour,
come,
and
gone,
shall magic
come
again?
wicked
wholesome deeds await
lovers,
and children,
and all that fall between.
Come
&
Fly,
my little devil,
Heaven awaits.
meandering and,
sliding…
slowly slipping into ecumenical,
and socialist
perfection.
I see you,
Brother,
and you
see me….
I nod.
You nod.
&
we keep it movin’.
Life
Blacktastic
belongs to you,
and
to
me.
rock on brother,
rock on.
I miss lightning bugs,
and
loud ass cicadas.
and dusk’s
changing of the guard, as bat replaces swallow.
thats it.
theDeprevation 