Eric Gama Poems

How was I to know?
That you'd really go.
I thought we'd take it slow.
...

Memories crash like the waves within the caverns of our minds:
churning crests of euphoria into troughs of grief
spraying, every so often, a vaguely familiar sensational mist
only to be ripped away by a jealous cerebrum
...

Wherever I look,
I see.
But none of those things are me.
...

The world is a big and beautiful place to see.
How can I find somebody like me?

There are homes in the country or city to be.
...