I don’t understand 
this thing love 
for when I 
do they leave 
and when I 
don’t they come 
and on and 
on I go 
this thing up 
and then down 
whatever happened to 
that pleasant middle 
when then meant 
then and stopped 
being then never 

Death surrounds me 
its never mine 
but always others 
I don’t know 
if I can 
let another go
leaving me here 
when its me
that wishes to 
instead of them 
life is cruel 
death is not 
it’s always been 
it never is

One more 
one last
before I 
go or
maybe return 
be they
poem or 
kiss for 
both are 
for you 
whom wherever 
you are 

I am 
then reduced 
to two 
maybe four 
when sleeping 
two open
four closed
for two 
when open 
I see
me and 
all of
things that 
you see
and four
when closed 
I see
you and 
all of 
the things 
you dream 

If for 
one moment 
we didn’t 
ever do 
but sigh
maybe life
would too
listen and 
maybe know 
how little 
big things 
really matter