a single leg hangs
over the side of the recliner,
dangling -- back and forth --
in sync with the grandfather's pendulum.

ticking down the minutes,
until the pain finally stops,
his face fades from memory
and her heart begins to mend.

a blank face and unblinking eyes
gaze transfixed at her
out-of-focus leg, going back and forth,
before she falls asleep.

staring out the fifty-fourth floor window
of a tokyo skyscraper as the rain fell
and wet the streets and people below,
she pondered what would come next.

the only light a small lamp,
sitting on her office desk,
offering just enough of itself
to faintly reflect her melancholic expression.

how small my own problems seem,
compared to the dilemma she faces.
how silly were my trials of yesterday
when juxtaposed with hers.

my confession

the temptation was too great and,
knowing the consequences,
i proceeded to do it anyway,
succumbing like only a weak will can.

i devoured everything in sight
and overturned rocks
to try and glimpse just a peek
behind the curtains.

what i saw now horrifies me,
haunts me with images and
plagues my waking moments
with what was better left unknown.

the aftermath has been brutal,
rocking my emotional foundations
and leaving me doubting my life,
where previously there had been only certainty.

when i needed you

here i am, when i need you most,
and you are nowhere to be found,
silent and incognito --
deaf to the pleas i'm screaming.

this might be another time too many,
the one that ends it all for me,
sends me spiraling downward
into a deeper pit of despair.

if only, is what you'll say,
if only you made the time,
if only you had realized then,
all i wanted was to talk.

the others

you had so many others before me,
who treated you like a simple fuck,
some fun to pass the time,
and i guess it hurts you felt the same.

it means so much more to me,
the connection, the intimacy.
but you lay on your back for them,
even when you knew it meant nothing.

it wasn't that you were cheating
in those years before you knew me,
and yet i can't help but picture
the lust you held for the others.

it hurts more than you'll ever know.

vultures

they surround you on your death bed,
like vultures, circling above and
hovering -- ever hovering,
waiting to swoop in for the kill.

spouses and children,
their children and so on,
each additional one
serving as another grim reaper.

even in the midst of it all
they think of themselves,
their own mortality,
when they look into your eyes.

two words

it's actually kind of funny,
how two words saved your life,
kept me from finding where you live,
and putting an end to your life.

for make no mistake about it,
if only i knew them,
i'd track you down
like the dog you are.

i might opt for harassment first,
slashing your tires, or perhaps,
making your life a living hell,
before revealing myself - the one behind it all.

oh yes, i would become a gun owner
and make weekend trips
to the shooting range --
if only i knew your name.

his wrinkled hands leafed through the yellowed pages of the photo album.

his thumb rubbed over her face as if petting a cat.

she passed a year ago, and now, for the first time in many, many years, he was alone.

he looked out of the window to the sea at the bottom of a cliff and reminisced.

pleasant memories -- that's what made them so painful. seeing her smile and hearing her laugh for so many years. and now, gone.

turning the page he sees the wish list she wrote in her 20s. how long ago it seemed.

on it were the dogs she wanted to own. she never did get all of them, but would never have given up the ones they ended up buying together for anything.

he began to cry when he saw the line where she vowed to marry him. he remembered when he first found the list -- after they'd married of course.

all the places she wanted to visit and live were also on the list. new york. france. even alaska.

she never did get to live in any of those places, or in any of her dream houses.

so when she passed, he went searching. he found a three-story with a wrap-around porch and an accompanying swing that she'd never get to use. the back door lead to a lawn and stairs tracing the cliff down to the sea.

it was just as she described in her list. what she always wanted, always dreamed.

this was where he'd live the remainder of his days. desperately holding on to the very idea of that which was her.

falling out

i do not conjecture two partners
can simply "fall out" of love,
but rather they lose the will,
to put in the required elbow grease.

for falling into love - true love,
is an uncommon happening,
and while far from being affliction,
it can be just as hard to shed.

vehement feelings linger like ember,
waiting for a spark to ignite them,
rebooting the oft majestic process
of falling in love - again.

indeed, it is not a falling out of love,
but a coming to terms with it,
realization that, like all of nature,
it is cyclical, recurrent, fluctuating.

day by day

apprehension swelled within me
until i contemplated running,
far away from this opportunity,
from the chance to fall in love - again.

the sting from past relationships
was all too raw on my heart,
which yearned to heal with time,
but also give love another chance.

i regret the impending trepidations
i will subject my lover to,
knowing full well it is not their fault,
their only crime being falling for me.

deep down i pray they stay,
are patient enough to wait for me,
to one day unfasten the latch on my heart,
heretofore impeding unconditional love.

they call it the honeymoon phase,
and it goes on for months or weeks.
a spike of pure exhilaration,
when new love hits its peak.

our very physiology morphs,
chemicals release in our brains.
yet this ever-quickening pace,
is one no one can maintain.

indeed, there comes a time,
when a decision must be made.
else routine becomes the norm,
and the love slowly fades.

when you come to know a person,
truly, inside and out...
and you accept what you find there,
then it's love -- have no doubt.

because if they are to be yours,
even their habits and their quirks,
then you must realize, my friend,
that sometimes it takes work.