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He carries her. She is guided under his palms, meant for this. For the rushing blood, the skin to be agleam under the brightening moon in the midnight hour. He has startled her, in his wrapping arms about her feebly thin waist. He watches. Her notices the whistling tension from her mouth, and he washes…
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Hold yourself Close to your beloved thorns, Bleeding your arms to be dried. You caress your wounded heart Like a pup That has lost its own mother. I believe truth Can be as changeable As the weather, As your expressions, As your form when it ages, As your fingers when they wilt Like the petals…
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Did we die well In the passing Hell, By love that was hurled from our hearts To the emptied streets? Street lights pass us Without our motioning forward Through the time that constitutes death Upon its bleak shoulders. We were dreamers Loving the sails more than the waters. For it was the ocean that drowned…
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This beckoning To my own faltering. The kisses come silent Blown upon the passing gusts. The sails of mine Are weathered by weather, Folding in the ruining of my mind, Twisting by the ruptures upon my heart. My hail Is your tale. My tears, pour the ocean for me To cross, while my loss is…
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Wait for the wild times To say upon the current times That they were not meant in their place To see the thousand weeping faces. The dangerous times Place themselves on the seat of shame. The gentler times Are seated on the right place of life. We are two foes Who fight, in the throes,…
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Pull down your world upon mine, And kiss me hollow. Words are so unspoken As the shells upon the shore That never reached anyone’s ears. You have a gift For perception. See me on your shoreline Counting the raindrops, the tears Spraying against my marred face. I have a wilted emptiness For countless seasons I…
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How many storms can follow us home, How many deaths can prove us undone By the faces so cubicle, So box-shaped, without a curve for expression’s sake? How many lacking humanities Can pull us down to hollow and empty graves? How many discarded breaths Can flood the fields with uncertainties? You had your thoughts craving…
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For what we love in the world, it was not caused. Destruction is caused, because destruction cannot be created. We do not breed what we wish to dismantle, because we have created it. We have created what we protect, because a creation demands protection. A creation demands protection, unless we have involved causation. For causation…
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My pain Is naught. Your pain Is bought From the galleries where color is adorned At the Spaniard Puetra del Sol, Run as red on ivory As a blushing girl, roaming through destiny. You field the flowers, As their scents tempt you. Kiss their great numbers, That I cannot haunt you. I want to love,…
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How much love Can we kiss the roses with, Before our lips become grazed By the touch of thorns? I did love, I truly did. You played notes upon the golden harp To lure me through, passageways Towards the messenger Whose message was to remain silent To your waiting game. I fell through the clouds,…
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“Where one should be proud for their deeds, one should be humble for what such actions make the committed person.” – Anonymous It is true in the statement that pride is meant for action, for deeds, for the noble actions that were held of having no choice. One can be internally proud as a hidden…
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