I fall in love with lines and

figures,

and shapes, sometimes.

I watch the angels and

whisper

for some sweet

surrender.

My fingers are numb –

are they cold? –

or can I feel you no more?

My guitar weeps

heavy,

and hurt.

Love is a jagged yesterday,

and you never hear

the other shoe drop.

The hardest part of living right

now

is that most people

can’t live

with themselves.

The smoke slips into my mind and

the freedom follows.

My shadow puts down

the world it carries and

my life unwinds for a night –

Atlas puts the boulder down.