snow.

snow falls on my dreams
while i sleep, like
a tree fallin in an empty wood
quiet as a smile
sharp like cracked lips
and crinkled skin
in the winter chill.

you are there with me
the white in your hair
like you are wiser and
softer with the magic (of the
snow snow snow)
the color marking the years
gone by with nary a word
just a twinkle in your eyes
quick like the glimmer of
neon lights on the subway panes

i hug you like i would the ocean
grip you tightly and watch
you slip between my breasts
and hands and soul
leaving me ice cold and
standing alone on the train stop
watching the tail lights
of your train, your soul leaving me

staining my lips.

i hold my tongue
and drink my bitter tea,
staining my lips,
like a memory.
and sewn shut
are all of those times,
when i needed more,
than a poor man's dime.

(more than just an offering
more than a feather off of
a bird's back,
more than what you're givin' me.
more than i do expect.)

push my lips together
clench my teeth, must
grind grind grind them
down to asphalt and dust,
cage my tears and hide
my hiccups and fears behind:
"i'm fine"s and "i don't mind"s.
and now,
i'm not sure i know any other words
(well at least none that you listen to.)

a reminder.

i hate these silences
and the empty promises
they stretch over the sky
like wispy clouds above our heads

they feel like soft goodbyes and
falling-apart like gritty sand,
all the fights we couldn't mend,
while driving too fast around the bend.

like awkward touches saying
I don't know if I'm allowed,
allowed to touch you.
(am i -- am i, babe? --
allowed to touch your face
and get in your space
or will you shove me down,
shut me down?)

you seem so far away,
drifting along like long summer days,
a ghost of who we used to be
a reminder that this is all we can be.