here at home under some cruel October sun
 
here at home under some cruel October sun
with its relentless tattoo giving birth to sweat
on the torso I'm currently not so proud of,
I labor under the duress of quality problems
I woke up wincing at sciatic nerves
and at the ones  still attached
to you.
 
You were on my mind again your silence paining me
the five miles that separates us
some eternity I've never known
that I'm still waiting to come
to fruition.
 
yes, under the cruel East LA sun its alien heat murderous
I still have poems for you, I'm still waxing and waning
poring over the last words you sent me
I'm still wondering aloud where you are
I'm still singing at night, praying my voice will carry
I still fall apart at times. I still pine at times.
I still carry the weight of your last goodbye
stargazing and introspective
about things not yet healed
or resolved
between us.
 
and so many moons later holding someone else's hand
wincing under someone else's affection
you're still there
and it's the only thing I know
the only thing being born between soul and sigh
that one eternity I prayed would come
when you held my hand
when you held me close
whispering you didn't want it to end
because it never really has
for
me.