now i'm left with

 snatches of the night,
when i imagined you'd climbed into my bed several times,
every passing hour
and murmured, "because i missed you",
against my drowsy temples

it is still a very lonely time of the year...

i call these ma's flowers

they have a way of returning

once 

in every couple of years

they were there the year you left

and on their yellow petals

my desires slipped

until my syllables formed a lisp

to singe your synapses

they are here again

you're here

i'm here

and our phrases clash and crash

and an embattled youandi

gather each other

to prepare for another bout

PreBirthdayGifts

they arrive in beautiful packets like these from very far away...from angels whose life is a way of helping others live

Shel Silverstein's

sing me to sleep

 the sedative warms my blood and i fall asleep thinking:
i wish i never had to tell you that i miss you