Monday, December 28, 2009

Small mercies

Thus you curl up beside me in the dark -
Pressing your lips warmly against my ear, whispering inaudibly
that the words still stumble silently through my memory.
For your hair was scented softly with hyacinth and your touch like rain
that as your finger traced the outline of my heart
I never even heard you say
- Goodbye.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Monday, December 21, 2009

Sleeping with a broken heart

Thus we lie in the ruins of pleasure -
As our intimacies lay scattered like shells along a shore.
Where only the memory of your touch remains - I should have known
that it was never about how much love I had in my heart
but about how much love your heart
- Could hold.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Thursday, December 17, 2009

The enlightenment of death

Even as the mirror of mortality –
Is not merely the reflection of all things to come
but the revelation that all things
- Will pass.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Wednesday, December 16, 2009


s is the capacity for pain –
Determined by our willingness to be hurt
Solely by the ones whom we - Love.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Friday, December 11, 2009

After forever

As I have loved you before –
I many forms, in many ways, in many lives.
Thus as you lie quietly with me even at this world’s end
we have no fear, or sorrow, or longing regret
for I will only love you more
- Tomorrow.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Invisible sun

As I feel the warmth of your touch –
Fingers combing through my hair, caressing my face,
and the gentle heat of breath which slowly climbs my shoulder’s retreat
that my eyes flutter with the resurgence of well-being.
Yet I bask only in the arms of my memory
For you never could give me
- Your heart.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Saturday, December 5, 2009


Consumed by vacancy –
As my last breath, suspended before me;
dissipates slowly into the shadows that its sentiment is lost.
And yet I must fathom to catch but one more –
Praying that it is sooner than these lungs are filled with ice
if I am to show you once again
how much I love you
- Still.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Half truths

How pale is a lie –
When my lips are sweeter than words.
Laden with the confections of whispering conspiracy
my tongue pours promise into your ear
as I play upon your desire
- To hold me.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Implied consent

our eyes spoke softly to me –
Love at your will; with the love you impart
loving me still as I break your
- Heart.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009