This song sounds like you.
How you spoke softly,
His voice is scratchy, but strong.
He plucks his guitar strings
Like you Plucked every string of young heart

I felt like an indigenous mexican instrument,
Like hollow wood
Like ancient bark
Handled with care
By you.

"Tu Dueno"
You were,
My Gypsy King.

This song is mine.
It ends only to be started again
I can't recognize beginnings since you left
When endings are never certain
And you are always with me.

Watching you sleep was the loneliest part of our nights.

Singing, he continues, Vibrato
Echoing in my ear
Layering your memory atop reality
Of invisibility.

Why did you take my voice from your head?
Without it I may never appear to you in a song.

Vibrato-ed love,
You made it last.
You didn't just love me-
You looovvvveeeed me,
Without punctuation
You loved me on a blank white page
Eternal, pure, dove and olive branch.
Eternally fading white,
Neither brighter nor duller than the day beofre
Softly singing
You sang to me
A song sung.

Where are you off to
Quiet nights I can not take
So take me with you
Wherever you're going, I'll go
I'll drive when you get tired
And cook when we're hungry
I already save half of what I eat for you,
Imagine.
Imagine how much of the same it will be
Not knowing you and knowing you
I believe in you
therefore
i already know you
already love you.

hands reaching in time's confusion
you're either for me
or against
up against this wall
i stood
still
through night's quiet
and dark cold breeze against the back of my neck that your scarf's cotton
couldn't caress
couldn't care less
about
a man and his cold night
i wish i did.