Lives

I.
We are an ocean apart, you and I.
 your crystal mescaline eyes,
your love, and ever-turbulent world of hurt.
I apologize, for through all of my obsessions,
I can no longer discern what life means.

Deep-seated slave to a bionic heart.

waste not, though -
You're alive,
and you wield unending grace.


II.
How do I get back there,
Back to the place where I fell asleep inside you,
deep in the cavernous expanse of somnambulism,
of drives in the frosty night and sunsets that shall never shift.
Fear not the story of bitter, beggar fish in the sea,
and flourish again, in time. We are blessed with eternal fortune, so
Wait for me at the gates of the high road.



III.
Picking up the photos
Photos of salmon-hued polos and mexican fare of yesteryear.
Of better days, of brighter misfortune,
of young and wistful.
for Greg - you'll live on as a reminder
that everyone has their own shoes to fill.
That the world is a complicated place, and that you were a glimmer, happy to be a part of it.