sitting in the darkness at 7:15 PM on a Sunday,
that’s god’s day…but outside I hear the gunplay,
listen to the birds and the whining windy afternoon,
my face hot because my dreams focused on you,
I cant seem to shake this feeling that im not alone,
in my own home im afraid…gotta act completely grown,
my fears touch the spine and tingles send shivers,
fingertips finding my hand and your lips quiver,
pulls me from the form-fitting recliner I occupy,
why try to hide the signs…you know I want to cry,
looking into the mirror looming over the kitchen sink,
I can feel my own eyes prying and I try not to think,
fall back to the days before she knew what was going on,
the green grass held promise when I mowed the lawn,
found the meaning of true life in those fateful three words,
I love you…that mouth kisses air as you clean the herbs,
cooking up a storm I can smell Sicily in the air,
reminding me of home and how my mother resides there,
wishing I knew exactly what to speak to your ears,
hiding in the red hair that’s endeavoring to steal your tears,
why is it that we both cry as the sky blues outside,
wishing I could make you see what im feeling and why,
but now it’s a lost cause…when I gaze into that mirror again,
I see the son I never met…lost my reflection at 6:34 PM…

once again. goodluck. quick key before bed.