Maybe some day you’ll hate me,
curse the sun, search the clouds,
scour the seas, maybe someday
you’ll find that deep blue something

that place where it’s ok to be,
to be or not to be.
You’ll dance across oceans of
happiness and magic

to recitations of Hamlet
or Macbeth; I always forget.
Where nothing is pointless,
mindless, senseless jargon.

That’s where you’ll be; you’ll go
from hell to heaven just to know
what it’s like to be, above the
people with fire, coming for you.

You’ll tell yourself you’re perfect
and believe nothing they say,
they on the ground that frown
and scowl when you look your own way

when you make your own place.
When I make you funny, when
there is no money, no fame, a place
like your name, with little in between

and worlds of things to say.
Between two stars, where it’s ok
to have scars and ink and rings
and everything is beautiful, great.

Maybe someday you’ll hate me;
curse my eyes, maybe someday
you’ll find the time to despise.
I hope instead you’ll stare at the skies

and realize that place can be now
inside your Maria poem,
you can call it home and come
here whenever you feel down.

Warm your feet when the snow
makes them freeze if the
breeze shakes your knees
and rattles all your bones

come inside this poem, read
between the lines, get lost,
linger here forever if you need.
Rest your deep brown eyes.

White and dry, I’ll love it
with you sometime, inside
your place, I’ll promise not to say no
if you promise we can go there

and watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s
while we sip pinot grigio as
the stars watch over your place
and taxi drivers hum by at their usual pace.

While you wrap your toes,
in this poem, we can discuss
prose or Poe or nothing at all
or I’ll show you what I meant

when I wrote in the fall i fell.
While all those people, who live
everyday go about their daily things
having never seen an angel’s wing

or felt a satin dream, we
can be or not be
and see what we can see
when we see the sides

of each other’s face,
that crazy yellow sunshine
that sometimes you make me
become when you say

my eyes are beautiful.
I couldn’t see you until
we met eyes, under the
crazy yellow sunshine,

those smart brown eyes burning
silent fire through the freezing
all around. I’ve still only found
one word to prove that they’re

Heavenly