weeds feed
my dreams, in a
cavalcade of screams,
while the
majesty in-between, is
just as it seems
rocking back,
and forth
on the porch,
sitting, and
staring at the dead, it dreams
like another reality
altogether, as
birds fly back,
and forth, mirroring
my actions,
without
the necessary transcendence
of being…
felt, not felt,
smothering
like a fleece blanket
on top of
the history
we’ve shared together
recalled,
less enthralled,
I walk towards you
with love in my
heart, stopped,
attracted, less
retracted,
without a stare,
only ever a deeply felt care,
we’ll always share
