The door betweenOur stamped feet,While our forms rise out of bases,Sent forth towards the skies,Sent forth towards the blue,While our tears keep raining. I do not see what is outside of a windowAs the blissful blue of summer.Only the navy of lonelinessHas ever been my…
All I wishFor you to doIs to say you want to live. For you seem to want to die,And leave memories behind. Is depression truly this deliciousThat you’ll forget what pleasures we hadIn times where comfort was wieldingIts own sword? A sword against poverty.A sword…
Your tears come new in the blue,Beneath the ozone layers and layers of ice,Beneath where you’ve seated yourselfUpon my lap,And dream of where we could seeEach memory collapsing. Your beauty is a for a womanWhose neglect is permanent,And whose face is casting off, upon the…
Our place, our field,Our love, our shield.A world we did not knowCould hold itself, high aboveA certain coldness. Our love is a world betweenOurselves.Our barrenness, upon shoulders so naked and worn,Our strewn selves, where we spit upon lakes frozen over.I called thee, over to me,I…
Roses delight themselvesUpon your parted lips,While teeth chew upon the tears that run from bluest eyes,You smile with a message that sends a roaring painDown upon my feet,Your face is a homecoming,One kiss would tear it off,So that I may see your truth. Rose petals…
I knew to love,What was trusted deeplyTo the nuptial part of our romance,Before an altar with primrose and tulip,And the sight of Christ upon our faces. And, it was yours he shared the most attention,As you wept, among the repeated sighs,To the warm wind of…
My love,My beauty,My once-held power.Upon your hair, there are ornaments of ice,While there is pain upon my mind.There are great statues in the wildernessFor us both to see.Their splendor has been an easy achievement,To fill the void, of an artist,Of one forgotten creator. I once…
Threads weaved about, curves among blessed curves,A small pup in your shadow,You’ll scorn the thing to its hiding,With lips made of scarlet stripes.To some painter with his wielded brush,To some sculptor with his hands in the white,To each golden bit of skin, with golden highlights,In…
Love is a wing, and I have been caressedBy it, by the hip that I hold,By the lips, bold in red. By the few lashes that extend far from eyesThat are tinted in bluish contrast. Beloved, so loved you are, beneath me,As I am above,…
My dear, you’ve kept building what ought to be thrownFrom the highest precipice,To the furthest ocean,And rent apart by waves acting as hands.Hands from God, hands from Satan,We are beloveds, always in arms, though I am angered.I am angered by a world,By a world that…
