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Recycled Roses (For A Ghra Mo Chroi)

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You see,
If I could be in
your arms only for one more day,
I would give all the stars
back to their creator.
Although they look better
in your eyes,
the sky is meant to hold them
forever and a day.
I would return
the fire that burns
within your heart
to hell.
Because that is the
only place it could have
been originated.
Heat of that sort and kind
only belongs
there.
I would send the passion
that yearns within your
touch, back
to Christ's heart
as he is the only one
deserving to hold
so much yearning.
I would return every kiss
and recycle every rose.
I would buy back every day
and trade it with my foes.
I would make every bet
and forfeit any game.
None of it would make
sense if it did not withhold your name.

I would give to God
The breath
which he gave
to me.
I would send him
it, so as to
return something
to me.
I could keep from breathing
as long as necessary.
I could relinquish my hold
on everything I hold sacred.
Except one thing.
If I give in to all
the desires of Him.
And let him have back
what he has loaned to me,
I would ask but for your heart,
for one more day.
A beat or two,
to drown out the sound
of my tears
that fall
as I kiss your
cheek.
Love is but a memory
a cold hard fact.
To face it is the hardest
thing, you will never get it back.
But as long as you
hold my hand,
and squeeze it tight,
I understand.
Love is but a heartbeat
away from the day
that all shall be forgotten,
and the Roses shall play.





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