I
I draw in the half light
Of dawn, one small lamp
Lit beside the bed. Shifting
The pad to meet the light, the ink
Flows uneven. The smallest sound of
Disgust escapes, more felt
Than heard. I shift
The pad away and
Tilt the pen.
The ink flows
More readily but
Lines are less sure
For shadows cast.
Black on dark green so
Difficult to handle, but
It reminds me of you,
Deep, rich, smooth and soothing. The tree,
My tree, something I have always associated with,
Its branches reaching high and
Roots reaching deep,
Appears like a hart and his doe entwined.
We’ll see if my rudimentary skill
Can make it so.

II
I had a dream
Of a concrete room,
Ceilings high with
Deep rich walnut beams
Walls wide in light sleek lines,
Windows open,
Sheer drapes blowing in the breeze
And water in the distance,
My bed with you in it.

III
Soft happy peach,

Dreams are not omens, they
Are the allusion to desires.

Deep rich cowboy,

How does it feel knowing
You have secured me?

IV
I write in the cool light of dawn, the sun just rising. The thoughts are many and more than I can keep contained. So much to do. In the past, it wasn’t always so and the extent of it broke me after a while, but I still think it is so much easier for two. I wonder how it could be good. You are, you see, the antithesis of all I have known. Strengths similar, and differences complimentary, we could feed off each other sweetly, keeping passions high. And that the expression of my thoughts and dreams have not run you off says so much.

V
You think it’s cute?
I think It’s agonizing
And you confuse me.
I want to eat you alive yet
You will not let me.

VI
Mountains once
Seemed insurmountable
Now they are nothing.
I am strong and
It is your strength, your
Autonomy that draws me
Like a moth to a flame I would
Flutter close then away and
Never cling fast.

That is what
Makes me weep, that beauty of it.
The strange aching need for you
Yet the comfort in my own pursuits.