Standing in the middle row
the rain fell like tears, the tears like rain.
I stood silently as an epitaph was preached out among the many listeners.
Everyone faded, all that was left was her memory and I,
No more will she laugh.
No more will she cry.
No more will she be.

Choking on my own breath.
The voices around me burn down to a mere ringing.
Lost, Scared, Empty.
The epitaph is over.
No more will we hear her.
No more will we walk together.
No more will we share moments.

As the crowd dissipated I forsook my pride.
I let down my body to her grave, and kissed it.
A tear tried to escape me. To fall on her stone.
I wiped it quickly. The last thing I would give to her was my love. Not a tear.


J. Andrew Day

last time i saw you,
you wore a red dress white shoes and my kiss on your neck.
the time before was a blue skirt brown shoes and my lips on yours.
i was thinking about you yesterday, so i had to call.
the sun reminded me of a slow day in Chicago with nowhere to hide but in each others arms.
the wind was cold and frigid but you, you didn't notice.

Your skin was... and your eyes.
So warm.
Your body was as rhythmic as a clock steady and strong.
As the seconds ticked away you became more and more fierce, like a wild animal
demanding pleasure

your eyes became tinged with lust and your teeth became fangs biting into my flesh but with a sympathetic gentleness that would soon be torn away.

Your nails ripping through me.
The sweat dripping to the floor.
The taste of salt filled the room.