me looking at you

sailfished-eye by
glint of golden sun
procure for me a dream
wherein grass-breezed
beaches blow your 
radiant eyes.
is it a dream
or do i die?
the brilliant golden
land draws near,
my home upon 
the warmest
far off hills and
dawn of southern sky
for you alone
i die

when your eyes were stars

when your eyes were stars

we were young together 

separated by miles and 

long distance phone calls 

and in my memory

your eyes were stars 

on those darks nights in 

wooden door frames 

beneath the Memphis sky 

how simple love could be 

as an old man snored and 

a friend feigned sleep to 

hear my hushed declarations 

but could you love 

completely?

there is a strange 

phenomenon 

in which a heart is torn 

in two 

in which decisions must be made 

there beneath the Memphis sky 

to rend a life or 

leave it whole

to let those stars burn brightly 

or take one from the sky

hang up a phone and 

sneak back to bed

to close my eyes and 

dream