After the Ending, Before Begins Again

My soul doesn’t understand this dead language
Muttering gritty salt
Ground between worn teeth
Joy
That permeates the cold air
Bleeds like a chapter book
Quiet stories on musty yellow pages
The reds are blue
And the blues are black
This breaking
That splits the air, the bitter dripping poison
Is another phase
Heavy drugged eyes
Dread opening day
The nights are empty
Void of sharp edges, bookcases, final endings
My sleep was rounded, curved away
Like flowers reaching for the sun
The black is grey now
Dried up and dispersed
Loss is eternity
And then it ends
And I’m drunk
Lips form words and fingers read poetry
Hands and hips and homes and hair
Burn to the ground
I loved you
I don’t know what else.

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Passing Through Ridgewood

The night air touches my cheek
With affection
Whispering sweetly, sincere
Calming an uneasy head haunted lately by bad dreams
The street is quiet and I’m alone
Feet echoing on the pavement like a single heartbeat
The hum of window ac units
And distant mariachi music
Remind me of families huddled together now on worn couches
As I pass
Pink cheeks peacefully pressed against mother’s chest
Lives mushrooming from the quiet that once was the emptiness of a lonely room
Love blasts from the stoop
A tornado that sweeps me off my feet and sets me down again, stunned
I don’t have anyone to call my own
But the scent of trees in bloom tonight
Brings me to tears
The volume of my soul is turned up
My spine is a totem pole and my legs swing in revolutions
That time I stitched my own tattered tongue and reassembled my fractured ribs did not scar me
My freedom is tangible
I carry it in my pocket and it courses through my headphones
I whistle the tune
While my love waits its turn
My dreams are bright and painful
These days
They light the street in front of me
And I don’t have anyone
But I have this.