Urgent Care Sunday afternoon

urgent care

Without hope, broken dreams, it ain’t worth livin’, life ripped at the seams.

My paper bag sits with a bottle of cheap wine, no one cares Lord, but I am still Thine.


nights too cold

I wait in the darkness, lying like the Maja

after our exchange of insults and barbed-wire words.

Only your shoulders face me

and I am surrounded by this suffocating silence.

My voice whispers to you in this night

and I don’t understand this silence pressing against me.

I rest alone, only confused.

I feel the warmth of your skin

near mine, this night.

Still, only the rays of the ascending moon

touch me with love on this one of many nights too cold.Image.

whispers to moonlight

O, Sweet ray of moonlight!

You know that no single word means anything at this moment.

Leave our robes draped on the tile.  They have no use, after all.

A false caress hisses over each pore promising lies of affection.

Hand against skin grabs its fill – engulfs, possesses, more.

My eyes wide beg for your light as it bathes me in your fusion

and I remain suspended, broken, less.

Yet emotion is expected,

and so feigned,

in this numb emptiness of every moment in his indifference.