Sometimes it is hard to know
what to say what to do
Sometimes it is not obvious
what is wrong or what to do
Sometimes, now sometimes, it is just
too much to say words of love
They wreak you instead with antonyms
and flog it to unnatural death
Is someone waiting in the garden
for the bits of self rejected by
what you know now
the bits of the soul that never make it
to heaven
or sorrow in the darkness
wounds to discuss
as you part you eyelashes that
have stuck to each other
fast, lacrimosa dissolution
The body exhumed
cut away the Lapidaria sunface
and expose the mind to light
between hard stones lie the distance
we found so important
last in the lanes
the lonely runner comes home
Recording with Jazz (links to Soundcloud)