You will play.

You will play
Je N'en Connais Pas la Fin
and i will talk and not talk for hours
in love with the silence and the noises passing between us.

My house, the one i made a home
is up for rent
the space i made ours
is now empty, leaving nothing but echos.

we are making spaces inside ourselves now
and filling them with things we never needed.

a burning desire within me knows
there is a home to be made for us again
somewhere sheltered from the fires and torrential rain.

That is where we can grow and be all we are
without hesitation or regret
oh to build a home with you again.

london in november

we drove into a morning

that spilled light across the fields

in a way i don't think

i will ever forget

speeding south toward warm fire

and hearty dinner

we continue

no rest for the wicked

i am away

on a train

to a big town called London

where they stole my wallet

and i stole a cherry

and i began

all those months ago

and so i was to return

to see faces

familiar and sweet

to dance to tunes

that held my hair back

and put salt in my eyes

to sleep as a bohemian queen

in love with the night air

cold on my skin

to listen to tapes

and answers questions

why?

how?

when?

where?

who with?

to sip lattes

and make beans on toast

to hear accents

that have only become accents to my ears

of late

to be seen again

and loved all the more

i saw the purple turtle

and i am learning how to remember

and smile

at just how glorious

this life can be

untitled

so it is

another chapter finished

and it is without silence or peace

that which i had wished for

i exit again

there is a space

unknown

and unkept

inside

foreign borderlines

where there is a boy

waiting to be a man

in the arms of a stranger

and it is to him i shall cling

coming awake

and alive

in eyes that do not look to judge or intimidate

control or suppress

these mistakes

that i am to suffer

and be made a stranger among friends for

will pass

in the distance i will once again travel

in attempts once more

to rid myself

of the cruelty your love had to provide

the half lit up man

the closer i get
the more wrought with jealousy i become
it is as though
no matter
how much
or how far

i am still filling up
his footsteps
and looking at the space
left still

i am shadowed by a man
much greater then i

and his eyes
though long closed
burn holes in my back

his breathe remains in my conscience
and his words
are harder still to dissolve on my tongue

when you have just enough

to turn around

again

do you think

perchance

the wee things that stood behind you all the while

will still be there

just as they where before?

something slipped out the window

of this car

as it sped away from any form of commitment

but in the space between where you are

and where i am

was once there a line

so it is in dreams now

i fish about

for our friendship.

wellies across the water

red toes across the sky

you cannot imagine

i will sit by you
stranger
man in this not my house
i will cook your dinner
and wash your clothes
and at night
i will hear you stumble
about
in this not my house
you seem still driven
some unsatiable hunger
perhaps for the cakes hidden under the stairs
or for a translator
to turn my questions
into answers
the demons of the night claw at your sides
and i fear the sound of your restless rambles
i do not wish to bury you
but i did not wish to bury
any of those i have
you are not paying for any wrong doing
your regret has no place here
in this not my house
among those who only wish to love
until this love need not feed or listen
is it a selfish love
that keeps you
or a heart so full of compassion
it cannot ignore
you cannot imagine
the ghosts reborn in the light of this darkness
there is purpose to us here now
a purpose on my part
so full of unwanted responsibility
how cruel it is
to know
and not know
to care for
a stranger who's eyes scream of unspoken sadness
i fear i will learn what it is to mourn a stranger