It might sound 
trite but what 
I’ve finally learned 
is that the 
only way to 
give oneself totally 
to another person 
is when you’re 
fully aware yourself 
and not some
injured limping beast
looking for a
kind face in
which to bury
oneself and heal 

I used to 
think that the 
lapping waves were 
inviting me to 
set sail taking 
me beyond somewhere 
but now I’m 
beginning to wonder 
if they aren’t 
the sounds of
soothing peace assuring 
me that all 
is good here 

What’s that called 
when you’ve lost 
the taste for 
something that you 
once so enjoyed 
not a cold 
something like that 
but it goes 
deeper past nose
and onto tongue 
it’s almost like 
the heart itself 
has said enough 
and what once 
was a delicacy 
has become mundane 

Sometimes I think 
I’ve run out
of and on
long before due 
almost like the 
tocks of clocks
forgot to check 
the ticks making 
time go faster 
but no it’s 
just destiny using
fate as decoration

No mistakes ever 
happen now or 
later but only 
before because errors 
are never seen 
but only remembered