I am done trying to win the favors of love,
I am done beseeching the dame fortune,
I am done pleading with the lady luck,
I am done kowtowing to the dictates of father time,
I am done holding on to a faltering hope,
I am done taking refuge in my faith,
I am done wallowing in self-pity and guilt,
I am done wearing my heart on my sleeve,
I am done dreaming dreams.

Lolling in the lap of comfort and luxury
was not meant to be,
Neither meant for me are the reassuring arms of love
Nor the trusting hugs of a friend.

Keep your vigil, whispers of gray –
Speak of what I do understand.
Assault the evil glare of day;

It doesn’t speak for my heart –
Rather for the city made of stone
Which knows no bounds of hate.

On this day, I’ve fallen apart;
No love for the pieces that remain.
It offers no comfort.

Your neutrality fills me whole;
Share my haven with this mute
Though you are harsh but truthful.

Engage me, oh – whispers of gray –
Until I can bear its façade –
I will bleed for a better day.

Many a door, many a door
Along the complex’s corridor –
A symbol meant to welcome –
That’s what they’re for.

Rows of doors, floor upon floor –
Sometimes a thief they lure.
Nobody asks how you’ve been –
They just close their door.

Coming from within a rising hedge
  Of voluptuous white oleander –
I sensed a turmoil; one writhe
  Seduced better than before

And within the naked boughs
  Of some palo verde – in a rustle
Of few leaves – I thought I saw
  Among them a potential

So quick and sullen, I almost not
  Deemed it worthy a mention
Until a lone grackle squawked
  That vernal suspicion

Then the wind flirted with a sage
  Whose mane shimmied – fervid –
As if the breath of Earth had encouraged

Good morning, fair cardinal –
How are you?
How are your children?
Your plumage is nearly outdone
By the sun’s golden hue.

The mattress is firm –
My blanket is coolly sheer.
What’s that?
Come outside, be with us?
Sorry, my bed is too cozy a lair.

Like a sparkling Roman candle –
  Red beardtongue dots the canyon.
Oh, what handsome bugles!
  That decorate the trail along

Where pebbles were brushed aside
  And sway with the breeze –
Not to elicit surprise
  But to befriend the greenery.

What a curtain Bisbee has
  That keeps Mexico subdued
And influences the lands
  From which the Sierra was hewn.

What purple folds keep Oaxaca
  As a fortress in the sky
Breaking only in Panama
  To let a vessel dredge by.

No courier have I on hand
  Except the initial breezes that blow
So a whisper I channel into it:
  Give to Colombia my hello.

On waves of midnight blue -
  We shoved off in the boat -
It mattered not where to -
  Anywhere at a casual knot.

We entered a world of darkness
  None but us could see -
One of two black firmaments
  Distinguished by a cool breeze

And then - cradled by whitecaps -
  We kissed; we were comfortable.
That the hour was so late
  Was inconsequential.

Sealed with a kiss –
Our union is a circle;
Love, Laughter, Friendship
In motion centripetal.

Our union is a circle;
That ring of passion
In motion centripetal
Is neverending.

That ring of passion
Given unto us in prayer
Is neverending –
One vow, Two hearts.

Given unto us in prayer:
Love, Laughter, Friendship –
One vow, Two hearts –
Sealed with a kiss.