In My Longing
I hear the drum
of our past
beating to your
outside the door
for a path back
into my heart.
Two in an Elevator
Nothing hides the silence
That bids her breathing still.
Roaming eyes lost a struggle violent,
Meeting only to settle on cold steel
Wall searching back for warmth
In this enclosed hole, where it runs
Between two not so different forms
Burning with hellos clearly undone
By proximity between strangers
Not wanting to forget the flow
Of lives lonely in different manners,
In each our language of silence told.