Depths

 My siren's song
is good for only          use.
                          one

Upon these rocks,
I've laid my head
                         too
                               be smashed.

"Stay with me," she whispers,
while her voice amplifies
         the sea            -fold.
                       three

Her faceless features
whir,
        and it is here that
she becomes
                     forth
                             coming.

Finding Cassettes, VHS and Other Dead Fomats

Eyes subdued by
years of
               yesteryear
make this exactly what it is.

A counter;
 . . . tic, tic, tic, tic. . .
And the beat goes on.

All I have
      ever
had
 was time,

and I while I was
nearly myth
                    (at least in part),
It was her that kept me
going.

And if those misty
      recollections are peeled
back, then it is her        who
remembers everything.

* * *

I was the one who had chose purple,
and that was the first mistake.
(I mean second chance).

Color plays out
                            a
major role
     in marketing a product.

And I am a product/work-in-progress.

And it was I that chose purple,
           well before she sent that digital flower.

Only In My Dreams

In the dimensions of the dreamscape,
I looked upon you and you were worn. 


"Stay with me, here." She said, as 
I woke wrapped in sunshine and regrets.

Separated by time as well as location.

"Would you recognize me?" She had asked earlier,

"Yes."

On that white leather, 

while her gatekeeper whispers in her ear.