It's been a beautiful escape,
this time away from work
as I prepare for a wedding.

I think I shall miss
this calm relaxation
when the week of rest ends
and I return to my jobs.

I read through the night
-pushed away the dark hours
with stories of light
-and now that dawn breaks
I will take my rest.

To be refined/reused

The sun may have melted
Icarus's wings
in that desperate flight-
but it was the sea
who dealt the wounds.

Maybe I'm holding onto sanity
with just two fingers,
but better than
with only one.

Just when I think
I have finally slipped free,
Regret slams back down
like a vise I am one inch short
of escaping-

He is built the same
as this shade-once-a-young-man,
all skin-and-bones frame
with wiry muscle you don't expect
holding him together.
He even has the same concave indent
in the center of his chest.
He's a runner,
occasionally drawing,
quiet and reserved at first
who diligently works.

The similarities burn
until differences surface-

Dedication to multiple sports,
not music.
He draw ideas and images,
art not the plans
for something he'll later build.
His eyes may be blue but they're dark,
and he is not broken,
at least,
not in ways he's not trying to fix.

I will see this youth for himself,
not for the friend long gone.

I looked up
The Language of Flowers
for a poem
in order to
Enhance the Imagry
but then it got too complicated
and a little too pretentious
so here's this.

I'm awake alone
(comme toujours)
and I miss you,
you dumb idiot,
who said you wanted to write
and keep in touch
but didn't.

I could've told you about the cat
vanquishing the
cheese-eating surrender monkey
that is my dog,
or how Bollywood films
as a genre
are now my favorite thing
(il n'y a pas
du douleur
a la pensee
de regarder ces films
avec toi)
and now I know how to say
"father" and "mother" in Hindi
in addition to the Spanish I've been learning.

When I return to school,
and have things to occupy my time
that do not also bore me,
I will forget.
To remember invites regret,
and when I return to my hermit ways
you will be
but a dandelion.
lost in the wind.