Big Hell and the Temptation of Dreams or the Rejection of Love

I must turn you into a perfect morning
as stand in a field in a nowhere,
smoking a hint of the past
and waiting on the beautiful storm,
that will never be my eagle.

Everything disappears eventually,
so you at least have to be okay with that,
and then let the light know
that darkness doesn't always deserve
to be left alone.

I had a few dreams
about Kendra Jean
and I didn't want to wake up
even when the mattress caught fire
and kissed my wrists.

There are those
who don't matter
much for salt or tears
and then there are great lays
but not many worth words or want or forever.

I don't have answers
and even roses ask me questions
about these silly poems,
but they are just pockets full of sugar
to sweeten the space between.

Hearts look like bridges
or Kentucky castles on Greenspur Lane,
and nothing will be the same,
but only time knows why
old loves visit us in the night.