dregs and ash

Blair your darkness has come and gone
your night is now over
you moved throw the clutter and disarray
you moved past the empties
and you were captured by an affliction
there was no cure for your disease

But you were lost in your visions
reaching to capture bliss before last call
but you never could escape the anguish
all you ever gained
was a return to painful days
filled with dregs and ash
and a glass of wine and myrrh.

That night we roamed the maples
you burned all the choices
you glided through it's smoke
and you and I danced
past all the losses
you stumbled on the dance floor
you mumbled all your excuses
you spun around the perimeter
grasping for a sign
but you could never read the prophecies
nor the coming of closing time.

Your eyes showed no answers
they had lost the power of sight
and were unable to see into the night.
I tried to reach beyond
I tried to pass inside
I tried to share your rapture
but there was only vinegar in your glass
and an empty on the bar.

Blair your night is over
and I didn't see you leave
now only dregs and ashes remain
somewhere in the bar
somewhere lurking in the smoke
somewhere sleeps your answer
hidden in that empty on the floor


Trapped in the stupor that you traveled
unable to hold the light
there was only I left standing
you fell between the tables
hidden from my sight

I tried to reach beyond
I tried to get inside
I tried to share your rapture
but there was only vinegar in your glass
and an empire on the bar.

Blair you eyes were no answer
there was no inner light
I watched as the dreams dispelled
I saw them spill upon the floor
Blair I discovered in the shadows
that your face was already cold

in the predawn I discovered
you were already an apparition
all your lust was wounds
all your passions were lacerations
I found in the pail glare from you
that only the dregs and ashes remain.


In that darkened bar
only a specter of you remained
Blair, all the voices were garbled
the tables were cluttered and empty
we should have waltzed together
I should have understood
I should have read the signs
of the absents in your eyes.

Your flesh was used to much
there was no cure you could ingest
but the smoke and music were to much
it all conspired to lead you out of step
you trailed after the flames
you danced a note behind.

Your voice echoed in me
your words just fell from the air
there were moments when the rhythm wasn’t there
still you spent the night aimlessly moving
capering around the edge
hoping to capture a vision
promising escape from your affliction.

We were lost together
we were dizzy with the passing
but it was you had the disease
I tried to touch you
I tried to read your eyes
but when I touched your hollow face
when I tried to reach into your void
I found your glass spilled and
your bottle filled with wine and myrrh.

Blair, believe me
I tried to reach beyond
I tried to get inside
I longed to share your rapture
but I discovered to late
there was only vinegar in your glass
and all that you left behind
all that you left in my hands
was only dregs and ash
and an empty on the bar.

my love, XIII: i ache and ache,

my love,
even in the darkest stories your shadow becomes air, and drinks the bitter mood of earth and water and i lay in this river, this bed of smooth stones of biting history and your hands fill the darkness
of my mouth and you spill into me the  lies of your flesh  and i gather the smooth stones of your dreams of others.

and you drown me in the swift rivulets  of your passing and the darkening sky that you are, fills the
hollows of my cupped hands and i ache for your passing for the chaffing wind to dig into my tender side, and leak my heart into the stream of flowing rocks,

the air of my sight trembles as the night losses itself to flesh and opens the creases of your body and holds you on the precipice and the precipice gasps its hungry mouth for you and moves along the firm curves of your body and you tremble and shake and leak a warm stream of ghosts, for your hands to dream.


and the darkness warms your body and  presses deep into your recesses, till you are full and stretched and you gasp and tatter the light and dark  with your fictions  as you tumble from the light of your need to the consuming arms of my absents,

and the gap that i have become that i fell into becomes the wash of time and carried me beyond the tick of emptiness till im swallowed into the longing emptiness of what resides on the other side of flesh,

my love
 the sound of it all drops sighs and hands into the clinging warmth of lost and  gone. and the memory of my hand stitches history into the stream of not me that you gasp. and i ache and ache.