The Widower, in Love

Do you know how I ache, with you lying beside me?

Do you know how I ache, without you here beside me?

Your breath

Last breath



Sinking into the warmth of the night

To rise into the sterile morning

Flesh against flesh

Flesh now cooling

Your feet


As you run into your dreams

As I begin to make calls

Learning the pleasures of a Sunday again

The simple pleasures of a Sunday morning

Café con leche

Coffee with whiskey

Morning breath kiss

First cigarette

Sweet smile, “What shall we do today, Güero?”

Wicked smile, “Let’s go back to bed for a bit”

Showering each other with love

Showering together after;

Laughing and smiling as the day unfolds

Giggling and gasping as the water hits

I had said, “May I please give you a kiss?”

You had said, “Will you kiss me already?”

Having stared already for hours at those lips

Having toked then talked for hours

Laughing and occasionally

Laughing so uproariously

You apologizing

Me apologizing

For not quite getting the correct word

For overstaying my welcome

I said, “What are you looking for?”

I said, “What are you looking for?”

“Someone to enjoy my simple life, and

“Someone who loves life and can

Toma mi mano.”

Just take my hand.”

Oh, mi amor

Oh, my love

Do you know how I ache thinking

Do you know how I ached thinking

I would never know love again?

I would never know love?

Wholly, in spite of the emptiness

Unholy, cast out, bitter emptiness

Or perhaps a well-tilled field waiting

Hardened hearts waiting to be cracked wide;

For a farmer to plant once more.

The raw geode to be revealed

Published by psychoterrierpy

Thoughts and Feelings; Poetry and Prose; Ramblings and Prophecies.

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