Love
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Once moreto see the sun rise,from your darkened eyes.One more timeto hear your heartbeat,in this faded warmth.I am stilled, wondering whenyou will run back,returning to these arms,over again. I am here, waiting at a station,hoping to receive your airflowering at your lips –those petals I’d surely kiss. One more dayto dance in your shadow.One more…
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What threwthis hour into noon?I am facinglong-awaited sunlight,higher in a once-dimming sky.You were there,holding hands with death,sinking to your knees,writing sentimentsin immaculate tearstains. I had been there,letting breath escapethrough an unlocked mouth.Being forced to closea door upon a retreatback inside, back outside,over into kind darkness. I heard you weepingat that fatal exit.I could not tellif…
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To curving winds, carryingall that spilled overboard.Sighs are racingover your neck, mixing witha scent, upon a pairof trembling shoulders. Your innocence, to care forwithin awaited temperature.Your form to be undressedin these shadows,surrounding us, like fallen leaves,like broken-off petals. Is it the shed sunlightthat keeps your smile hesitant?Is it the promise that creeps in,letting you know…
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Disallowance – the face of everythingbecoming senseless distraught.I accompany you, dragging your anchordown bottomless pathways,while you look up. You look upto see the sun, one more reminderthat you should always run. Always running, constantly shunninga potential for truth to quiver your skin.Blessed, to be coming togetheras a united picture, but you are reminding yourselfof what…
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Draft the word,that fatal wordthat landed me in an ocean,tied next to you,or your ghost. Touching space, hovering whereyour place, your gracehad everything, has everythingeven in its emptiness. I am that wounded dove,hanging from its neck,since you left me, to your peace,leaving me in wild pieces. I flick the switch.I hope that light will returnfrom…
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Can I come cryingto pale-white surfaces?Your shoulders are thoseplacements, to a sculpture –a cold depictionof flesh, made of winter. Under blocked sunlight,attempting to withdrawtears, back into a freezing heart.Who am I to declare thereto be wrong, in death,in depleted breath? Who am I to understandthe call, from the sourceof love’s majesty? I have taken your…
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Let the colors seepin between. I know what hurtsyour heart, whatever burnswithin each vessel,without anchors. I know about everythingyou have lost, you have refused.You bond with shadows,lifting light, in the foldsof sacred bedsheets, where a rush depletes youinto becoming cold stardust. Scarred, ample in worry,as a petulant thing.To colors, to your disease,love always weepscountless raindrops…
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Pressing urgeto filter our wantsthrough our hurt.All I’m hoping for,while leading tragediesto safety, are those dayswhen our lovefaded our moon,restricted our doom. Dog’s leash, slave’s collar –symbols of our belonging,before bleeding skylines. Refusing to stand. Kneelingupon earth, whereversunlight will land, and I am here,kissing your hand,before our fleshturns to sand. Battered, amongst desire,in caressing our…
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I repeatwords which arerunning, to whereyou are fleeing –words that are revealingdistant sounds,neglected echoes. You are signalingfor the next arrowto strike your heart, and was Imerely the symptom,before your cure? You’ve closed our book,while I’ve reopenedour significance to that last page.I still see those tearstainslike melted snow,like pain I knowwill blossom a gardenfull of weeds,…
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A captive. Once,a stranger to yourfervent glance. Here,being one man, one lesspain, for your symptomsare as bare as petals, being all color, without awarenessof a beauty’s demeanor. I keep this place of myself,a prison, a mazewhere veins are hallwaysinside your broken heart.Who had eroded you?Who had given you a glimpseof what cannot be needed, cannot…
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You’ve created labels,letting symbols forge connection,while leaving wounds openfor the next selection.Your world, a wilderness,a space to be lost,while signs are everywhere –everywhere, but leading feelings nowhere. To a door – you are exitingfrom tragic sceneries,of rooms covered with dust,of closets, where those emotionsstart to rot, start to rust. I remain here, holdingthe wind, only…
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I look into eons,awakening my eyes,under a velvet, hazy sky,expecting to see an aftermathof a night of coldfor flesh, so old. Instead, that cold granted me warmth,steady in my isolation. A pillow, on my left sidereminds me of a deserting rose.A petal that had fallenon the floor of this burning roomreminds me,merely of its delicacy.…
Modern Romanticism 