....ruins waiting to be unearthed....I face towards the merciless, heated wind...taking all that it bestows upon this faded flame....

Anchors hold life boats in place, a fire ignited by threat of a near by sail, before them ...

...Lay the vast, temperamental woman called the sea...it either was the beginning...or perhaps the end....and yet it mattered not..

even though living is an entity all its own. To somehow relive it, you must give to it daylight and take away from it...

and the sea of leaves. Turpentine stained shirt, across the rocks, a community of exploding stars. Like rings of Saturn...

I surround your widow-making heart....kiss these wounds that I bravely bear...walk within this stormy sky....

with a holocaust hand, grasping the subway rail, the letter returns to cremated ash.

....though my memory haunts me as if it were still was alive...I burn with the regrets of a life so shortly lived...and you begin to grow like ivy...overgrowing this wayward soul...

stumbling across broken promised dreams, strumming cello's accomplice ...

whilst a soft strum of flamenco guitar slips through golden strands of hair,

there being no need for castanets as her heels beat the staccato rhythm of the blood in my veins

So I decided to go donate blood and get a free donut.

...the man behind the desk was a woman old and grey, who said "no donuts, today"

BM

"That's ok", I said. "Just give me 2 holes, a serviette and blow me a kiss as I leave."

and a gift-wrapped box was on the doorstep where the shovel had been placed.

Attached to the box was a note that simply said, "Do you know what's in the walls yet?"