Is it true you’re missing me,
or am I missing you?
Building something new…
resurrecting past mistakes
It takes an ocean, sometimes,
but for now, a rusted spoon
Enough to pique your interests,
Haiku, Micro (lassoed moon)

Watching me, you saw yourself
when you were somewhat older..
We often see ourselves
inside the poets that we read.
Sidling up beside me then,
you looked over my shoulder
You’re frightened by
the things I write;
the way my fingers bleed

Conjuring these demons
is a razor’s edge we walk
Revealing all our differences;
how opposites attract.
We worship basic instincts;
Sculpted dreams with sexual talk…
Fantasies creating need,
So long before we act

And what is love that we should fall;
succumb to our desires?
I feel you in my blood
Inside my body, soul, and mind
Dreams we sacrifce;
words we cast into the fire…
Like Capulets and Montagues
(Division is a cut unkind)

And what if I should let these waves
take my castles out to sea?
Writing through my days;
you come and go so sugar-sweet.
Brought me to your secret room
to make my nights complete…
We held each other close
Safe beyond the walls of sleep.

You kiss me like there’s no tomorrow,
but still, the day arrives…
Kisses come with questions,
often answered without words.
Waking up to silence
was the last thing that he heard…
A marker for redemption,
atonement for his flawed intentions.

Manifesting mischief;
Fascination kills the cat…
The same as curiosity
with terminal velocity.
The secret star you gave to me
was more than tit for tat…
Magic clinging to your tongue,
a loving reciprocity.

And speaking of your tongue,
your kisses linger on my face…
Sweet lips pressed in memories,
Same as hands in warm cement.
Secret ciphers etched in stone;
metaphors for waste…
In dreams, it seems you never left
Your skin, your scent, your taste

I feel you as I felt you then;
sensations so deceive…
Letting go is easier
in a haze of happenstance.
Epitaphs and photographs
and something to believe…
Sentences condensed to poems
that somehow still makes sense.

TM DiSarro

©2025 TM DiSarro / Mindscapes Publishing

From my new book: THE MEMORY OF RAIN