standing on the jagged edge of the horizon,
reviewing the rhinestone littered ocean, suddenly
it hits me like a bullet train, travelling non-stop to Ipswich…

i think i’m in love with you.
but not for the first time… in fact,
what started as an infatuation has evolved into
something amazingly passionate,
furiously adamant on proving one’s feelings,
revealing what we thought was cremated and scattered
over the long, long ago, arose from it’s fertile tomb,
entered reincarnation’s womb and blessed us with a finished
product… beyond refurbished,
beyond varnished,
and no longer tarnished with the image of smoldering rubble
and the stench of dead flesh piled up like garbage… no.

we’re past that. it’s in our embraces, the bright smiles on our faces,
the invisible tears of joy… yeah, they’re invisible to you,
but i swear i always feeling them welling up and overflooding…
and it happens when i’m present inside the inner
sanctum of your loving. THIS is our nirvana.
THIS is our mecca. there’s not a second that goes by
where i’m not intoxicated with the aroma of your persona
that liberated my aching spirit.

freed from this aggressive disease,
and by aggressive, i mean a cancer constantly on
the offensive and besting the immune systems tactics.
my heart is getting it’s ass kicked,
leaving my bloodstream blue and white like a Lactic…
trapped in your labyrinth…
and i couldn’t be happier.

so this it what it sounds like when God’s shooting stars…

(picture by Pat Gamwell)