From these flames that rise from passion

Blue-tipped and dancing,

Filling heart chambers with golden hues

That glimmer in recesses that harbor truths,

From platinum reeds of tender words

Cast upon me during romantic spells,

Conjurings of enchanting actions,

That bend my stubborn will,

Quotidian incantations,

What’s simplicity proves their rule,

And when the moon falls,

As it surely will,

And the star,

That thaws our world to life,

But twinkles in the forever of yesterdays,

That dance behind sleeping eyes,

We will have been here.

Indelibly, our love will have colored,

A gray world greatly fallen,

A thousand lives before the breath of us,

We will have tread this liquid mass of stone,

Through its winters, gales, and storms,

And remained through every short-lived epoch,

A steadfast soul of one.

Lava waterfalls of the nectar that once satisfied,
The lusts of fabled gods,
Run through my veins when you utter your way,
Through loved upon syllables of my name,
Desires done under breath through tantric pants,
Leading glazed eyes,
While forming sensual rings of powdered sugar ohs,
That boast solemn oaths of eternally intended pledges,
Promises spoken in dark recesses with overtures of,
Caresses…

As far as the tail of a raging wind is from her barely panting, blooming breath,

As incalculably divergent from one another as fire is from solid stone,

They share but a subtle trace of the rarity of our love.

When, for others, like has become simply

not enough,

And days stretch over

Mounds of malcontent;

When the unmistakable sound,

Of worn lovers’ labored breath,

Can be heard over miles

Of cherished tensions set

Amid ordinary lives,

That have run their laden path;

A course burdened but commenced,

With star-gazed dreams and,

Grand intent.

My life.

Father,

I ask of you,

In what manner have I ever presumed?

To be worthy of such blessing, such grace,

To receive envoy of this brilliant light,

This angel that you place

Here to rest upon me.

Her tender nature unburdens

the once barely beating stone in my chest,

sets my fury to calmness,

And warms my fears to rest.

We fall upon each other at admitted winter’s end,

while Spring is but a rumor, its embrace a dated myth,

sans childish dreams of amore and the blindness of

reckless bliss,

daring to embrace a burning want,

that ruin attests no longer exists.

I sit in the stillness of an active peace,

In a quiet place to where I alone have been raptured,

But to where we will always be,

A sanctuary that for a vastly vacant lifetime,

Was completely unknown to me,

And I absorb its spectacle filled with wonder,

Amazed just short of disbelief.

Glazed over eyes betray my complete awe,

Of your spirit and all its aura,

I am a once invisible blinded man,

Brought to a place where I can both,

See and be vividly seen.

Your messages have me,

Meandering through days,

That I count down,

Looking for my life,

In the lyrics of love songs,

The deep ones that end in,

Breathless sex thoughts,

Rife with gripping images,

Of two lovers,

Righting the wrongs,

That we each secretly,

Need to be freed from,

Words that reverb between,

Breaths that sustain rhythms,

Long enough to move us,

Beyond the abstract,

To a place in which,

We materially love.

…amazed by how focused we are on doing

all the senseless nothings

that occupy our senses so completely

that we ignore all the proof of his presence,

and abide by borders that are less real

than the shadows that he casts down…