...and so many colorsI will have seen...the menacing greysand pine greensthe soft pink and purplesof springand summer blueand so many otherswithout you.

be the kiss in my hairthat no one seesmove, when i movesigh, when i sigh...be that line from a poemthat i hold in my eyes.

tell meof something fiercer than the love with which i gaze upon youof something softer than the tendernesswith which i hold you.

Fall in lovewith the energyof the morningstrace your fingers along the lullof the afternoonstake the spirit of the eveningsin your armskiss it deeply and thenmake loveto the tranquilityof the nights.

the intensityin your eyesburns my penas i write.

there are some poemsthat we leave behindsome that leave us behindwhile some just livesilentlyin the heartcrumble, sometimesdwindledisappeardieand are rebornwhen you smile again.

One clear moment, one of trance One missed step, one perfect dance One missed shot, one and only chance Life is all...but one fleeting glance.

Maybe life is all about twirling under one of those midnight skies, cutting a swathe through the breeze and gently closing your eyes.

Poems can getsleepless tooand becomethe loneliest thingin the universe.