 
## Aria

### Maria Morisot

### Cover Art by Moan Lisa

### Published by Moan Lisa Press at Smashwords

### Public Domain

###  http://maria.moanlisa.org

###  Apocalypse

These spinning plates of our survival; and we are wrapped in leather

casing for the duration of the work, my greed; my lust and my love

for you grow heavy in the mind; I desire more than anything a touch

Of your delicate prose; scripted upon my skin, in buried ink

And to the night I wrestle, to the ground I weep and keep collection

what we may bare; between our sheets, and I salve the eyes with sweet

poisonous balm; and corrupt your moods with bitter leaves taken from

The trees, you trust in me with innocent surrender; while I trust

In the lack of a god; in the bounty of the flesh, in nothing. And I

would have you sit upon me and slave over me; and fetch the water

from the well, to poison yourself

So drink, Mary; taste the toxins you may offer up

As sacrifice to your god. Take this, little one and eat; it is my

body given up so that you may live a slave in the present world.

Sedation comes on like a cloud; and I'm reborn into this toxic

mist, feeling for my feet; and for the dreams we used to spread,

Water and fire; a handful of mud, a new religion born of screaming

Minds waking from their slumber, and as I walk alone on this deserted

shore; I come across a wave of madness sweeping through; the dust

carries its echoes and the waves recede in recognition

Everyone has collapsed; the world has come to naught; but I

And I break my back trying to escape this dreadful dream of mine;

in motion's sickened pathway, I have come; so far without falling

and without dying; but could it be another has held out

Could it be that I am not alone, this madness; the insanity of my

mind shuts me into place; and I can only hold my breath so long

Before the body bursts out in tears; And so I call to the wind

Bring me the name of the survivor, and drape her over my shoulders;

so we may bleed together and we may hearken in the reign

Of this new goddess; cradled by the wind with gentle laughter.

What do you feel in the pit of your stomach when I whisper in your ear

and when my warm breath takes you under; how long can you hold yours,

I feel the same urge as I imagine you; intoxication from your simplicity

And in the scores of years we've known each other; each bath takes me

longer to digest; within the mind's unhinged reality of sorts, and although

we've wandered through time's facets and begun to crowd each other out

There still lies passion; pressing in against my wounded eyes

In this oppressive skin, this undulating diaphragm of night's purchase

bleeding with the sins of irreverent longing; and death, I place my

hand between your legs and press; folding in against your cavity

And present myself your servant of the darkness; your mistress in chains

And I see your arousal beneath the bedsheets, and I press in and on

against you with my hand; each pattern of the rhythm's containment

Felt, as though the night had fallen; leaving only our lust to abuse

Patience, love; the night is young and you are subtly at peace with me.

Eyelids peeled back to watch the sun, our lives pressing in around us

as we claim the certainty of our corrupted youth; it stains reason's

resolve, it sends a symphony of pain throughout my spine;

And I lay reason waste and claim insanity's resolve;

Fresh out of patterns to recreate, I create from scratch; with the

pushing and pulling motion of my gyrating hips; small gravity is

nature's appealing form; incessant thirst for passion's milk

And the causal wasteland that was born from her discovery

Drink enough of it to intoxicate the mind; and bleed, as the demons

weep with you; reminding me of ecstasy's chaotic flare when fires

burned through my loins; and passion seized me up

We are simple creatures, you and I; born on the still winds

So let the gravity contain us, and consume us within its beating

heart; so we may stifle the droplets of the gods; and breathe

In our containment of filth; this noxious air, the breath of life.

Our lies in exchange for our duties, as we trample in beneath the heart

simply stated pieces of the mind; bent on destruction of sanity,

too much resistance and too much failure burns the knife into the flesh

And we're left longing for our innocence; betrayed by sin

Left unclothed and naked; without a hand to help us through our intrusive

stealing of the sky's stars; without care of construction, we break

our glass of holy water; and shattering our hope we make ourselves bleed

The culmination of depressive air; wrapped in ivy and tears

Rakes through the mind and leaves me unaware that you had held me captive

all these years; my mind reels at the thought of how you've taken hold

And placed within my heart the stain of sin for which you travel through

Every inch of flesh, of mine;

And I want to purge you out of me; I want to cleanse myself of this insanity

and hold true to what I had once believed of the gods; their faith,

unobstructed and pure; without falsehood

But you have stolen all my will to believe; I believe in one thing,

and that is the purity and sacrilegiousness of love; its bitterness

And its sanctity all wrapped into one pill to swallow.

The faith of our reflection as it was written in the stars to

come to bear; our own dreadful summer and the winter that would

follow; three oceans drowning us beneath their waves

And a cacophonic wind; ushering in resplendant praise

To the gods that no longer inhabit this world; to the dead gods,

the gods of the earth and of the sky; the gods of thunder and

lightning, and to the rain we pray that non forgive our sins

Blessed be; in heaven and on earth, blessed be;

And we'll remember you when the lights dim and the curtains

are laid bare; and all our sins exposed; like a spotlight

soothing on the skin; but wicked as it pricks the soul

And in this season, in the night of our apocalypse; we'll bare

our skin with certain resolve; and sing the apocalypse song;

Of time, and light; and of the rebellion of the angels

against the gods; those forgotten gods of worship.

You just don't turn me on; with your legs spread and your eyes at

perfect distance from my own; I can call your name and come inside

you, but it won't be passionate; it won't be fulfilling

Now if you had the comfort I have felt; the bleeding out of perfection

Staring in at you, when the knife's edge comes between your flesh

and leaves the razor's edge; that bloody trail, I wish she were here

The girl that leaves the sour taste upon my tongue; my muse

To dither and diffuse my fantasy; her perfect form scratched in gold

but breathing, the way she's never done before; and I would insist

she take the blade and show me how it's used to best effect

I'd travel the length of her legs; and breathe her in

Let the moisture of her lips suffocate me; the toxic breath of life,

the still water pressed against my breasts as I come; closer against

her body, her warm and intoxicating body;

No, you're not her and you can never be; so close yourself from me

And lock the doors within your heart, because I can't love you now,

not here and not ever; the soul can only sing when it's allowed.

My own rejection, my own fading form of melody; newly made song

bent to pieces and is gone; broken in a thousand deadly shards,

And the blood centers on my spine; as I cut loose my leave

Like diamonds; or shattered pearls, I find my heart a mess, without

vacancy to hold another in; although she attempts to enter, although

she's wanting for a way; I've no pattern left;, no warm bridal mess

Comfort and comparison; and this month's isolation, it is the season;

to wonder where I've become with changes slowly taking shape; what reason

of this madness' critique should do us in; and so tomorrow; together,

I'll take her hand; just through the other side of this depression

And as the slow, dark world pushes and pulls; and sinks in on us, we'll

ride through another stormy night; we'll cause the collapse of the bridge

and past remembrance; past all our timid bonfires and all our gazing up

Into the sky beyond; we'll make glue that holds us together,

And find ourselves free of so much change; and free of the hollow feelings

of our lives.

My soft and subtle portrayal of the way you come to me, in your

bedclothes; and devour the life from out of me, as I stand silent

in the front yard; waiting for the crows to make a sound

And as we creep through this obscure remembrance

I hasten to make a sound; to make anything resound throughout

the silence; and I part lips as a beacon of my worth, to eschew

your change in voice; those stern and unsettling calls

A beacon of my worth; resounding peacefully, and with potential

Your heart flutters; as does mine, and we walk in silence

yet again denying the existence of our words; our hands held

in the memory of our first dance, together; and our first kiss

The kiss that broke apart the inner lining of my stomach

Too many memories tied up in you; too much of my existence torn

and crumbled and too much love has been poured out upon your

holy form; so much seemingly destructive force has issued

From the grave reminder that what you gave was never granted;

And you had taken it all away in a wisp of smoke and mirror,

this reminder etched within my mind; as we hold onto one another

here; but I can't care, because nothing lasts in this world.

The question of our conception; and of our birth, how many died before

we were spit into this world; and how many hard-pressed slaves should

die again; over and above what's been; for us; the two of us to remain

Unbroken and innocent; pure. What simple stretches of light

Between our thighs; hard-pressed against each other leg, and skin so

soft and pale; without the scars of sunlight's glare so innocent; pure

And when the seasons have changed, and autumn leaves her mark upon my

skin; and the fall chases innocence away like a nasty viper eating

its prey; I will swim in the shallows of an unlit pool at midnight;

With my lover in my arms; and nothing between us but the clothes of death

And when moonlight falls; and strikes us, and we see who we are;

what we've done to our simple conception of a life; how we've betrayed

the only god we've ever cared for; to soothe our lust, and our desire

We'll mention in the books; and in our songs; a reference to this deed

And the pool will be a symbol for the autumn's falling leaves,

a dance with death; a symphony to be remembered, and well past ten

into the morning; we'll lie in bed with child and we will break our

morning's fast; and go without our home; into the deep blue sky.

Our unleavened lives; held up as a sacrifice to the god of our pain

and suffering; the god who lives; and casts a curse upon the innocent

And we remain as stoic embers; burning slowly and steadily

Save for this rain that puts us out; or the wind that howls and brings

us back from the dead; we are at peace in this loneliness we call aesthetic

beauty; we are at peace in a world of simple lies and subtle harsh climate

Which way have you gone, love; beyond the iron fence;

Beyond and above what we had chosen as our plot in life, to be a better

angel than those of us who are dragging our feet in the mire's watery edge;

and bleeding slowly out our lives to some forgotten god

What now, born witness of the nether world; what new eruption will

Acquire us in death and make us sing the lonely song of our repentance;

I choose the song of a lover's tale; lost in abstinence, and blue with

the anticipation of her lover's second coming;

And I bid you come to me; in the hollow of my forest

Where the earth is still dirty with your last enchantment; so come to me,

and we'll wreath the wood with fire; and burst out singing to the gods

of olden times, and once we've purged the evil from your head;

We'll raise a shelter for the spirits to sit under; and bathe in the glow

of the midnight sun.

We lock ourselves beneath the iron gates; in hopes that someone brave

enough will penetrate the hold, it is a sexual metaphor played out

through the psyche of an unstable girl's mind; which doesn't matter

Much; she doesn't matter, She's blown beneath the sheets

And still on fire, without a mask to keep her oxygen levels in check;

I wonder when the world becomes a cesspool of violence, when she will

change her mind about the man; and keep her ordinance near to her

Inches turn to feet; and there are miles between us, love

Hasten your denial and let your fear run wild within the room; and come

unbutton my blouse, and let the pain drip; severed stains drip down

upon the sheets; where you cut me

With a blade of steel; an inch's incision into my hand and through

The back; dripping as my uneventful life has dripped,

And the doormat says, "GENOCIDE," so wipe your feet, and play the urban

legend; and play your bag pipes through the streets; and they will surely

follow your direction; but I won't come, I've lost my will to

Concentrate; I've lost my will to be your woman, and I've lost

the dream of our reflective sunrise, peeking into our shadowed spot

beneath the sheets; and shining with the last remnant of my memory.

The bath of our desire; spread thin with lust and soap; and showered

with the tears of my disembodied stain; and the carpet soaks with our

wetness, as we remove ourselves from this distributed sin

Cannot cloaks hide us from our dirty deeds; and paint shower us

With innocence again; why must we go on living in this poor man's

place, without a proper form of latitude to keep the birds at bay;

I stifle a smile at your naked body as we emerge

And set a candle on the place where we will take our final stand against

the goddess of the dead; we'll slit ourselves to ease the pain; the gnawing

bite of earthly flesh; Our pact, sealed in blood

Distance is the great divide; and I have you close to me for now

But what of in our bed; what of when we dream and cannot reach the other;

for spinning out of control, we've placed ourselves in a steady rate;

but we're still spinning; uneven with the stars as they burst out

And night has words that we can't comprehend; its only language

Spewed into the sky; as we perform our rite; and say the words, our language

unbearably cold; as we say the words; and wreathe our bodies in flame.

The inner strands of faith; the fiber of our recollection, as we

proceed to give the gift of our innocence; as it was poured out

upon our feet at birth, I strive to bring you close to me

And shine without the comfort of your arms; besides the

Travails of my heart; as it stings, you want to know the perfect

parts of me; the untouched glare of purity, and I will darken

those so you may come inside, and see; and destroy my heart

The bitter folds of an untamed rhythm; as it beats

I seize the opportunity to shine once; a last and an imperial

shrine; poised with the venom of a snake, to draw blood and contact

your upheaval through enticing shadows

We weld ourselves, in the bottom of the pit; we drain the blood

And as cold enters our veins; we purge our lover's dream and stay

a while in the darkness as it seeps; our urges and our dreams

saturated with dead faith; how may we cleanse ourselves of this

Production; how may we travel a bit through time and find the end;

So, as morning fades and the distant sun unravels;

time grows empty of its bath in blood; and we proclaim the distance

to our god, as two-thirds done and a third unreachable through sin.

You took away my innocence and corrupted what was left of youth;

and burned my flesh within the fires of your passion, deceit threaded

through your veins; and into my heart, as I wanted to believe

You were the closest thing there was to God in this world;

And I hadn't had an answer when I prayed at night; beneath a hollow

moon, beneath a starless sky; my love was pure at one point, before

the remains of the night took it all away

I was left with scars; and bleeding arms, cut in the symbols of your

Dark design; and as the chill of winter took me naked in its arms;

you crossed my path, and tasted the blood of my deliverance; my broken

body, captured in your flames; and held against my will

And this is the raping of my soul; and this the seed of nightmare

Reason's response to the infatuation of the mind as it looked at you

and smiled; I saw in you a savior and a prince of darkness; and your

seed became my principle longing and my desire; at the edge

Of a blade; written into flesh, I poured my poetry.

We walk the shores, speaking; hand in hand making footprints in the sand,

with words silent as a whisper, me make love with our language and as we

carry out our final steps to say goodbye; I laugh

Instead of letting the tears come pouring out; I laugh.

Deep within me, I can feel the suction playing at my words; and as I speak

it's hard to sterilize my speech; to give it christened birth, with joy

Instead of solid sounds of sullen and deserted words

How I feel must be contained within; to let you go easy, to let you walk

away into the sea; estranged from me, and everything that we held so dear;

Like leaking faucets in the kitchens of hell; my words corrupt themselves

My face betrays me; and I let my feelings out, as I were; as if

The raven of death, divine; come to pick at bones; and eat your flesh,

beneath the tree of the hanged man; that old, accursed soul; I breathe

and try to contain myself; but it's a futile task

You were want when I was young; to take my hand and promise me everything,

but now that I've grown tired; and cold, and cannot sustain the purities

of life; now that tears grow easy as the rain comes silent in the night;

I'll wash my hands of you; within the sea's cold waters.

But as you remember me; I walk the lines in parallel with our construction

as I place the head upon our god for worship; we com to concrete shores

of everlasting faith, which shall devour the remaining sadness from my eyes

And as I speak forgiveness to your name; and etch your last poem

In my flesh; cutting out the pain within my mind, and placing purity's

rhythm into my heart; and it sings the redemption song of the night,

Glory to our god, carved in sand and stone; blessed with our tears

And my blood, as the night grows bitter cold; I shed the candle's light

upon your face as I remember it; grown stolid in your absence, dulled

like a withered plant

Beyond me, in the shadows is my escape; but fear of death stings, and the

hopelessness of my broken innocence remains my first concern; there is no

life for me there; only the absoluteness of destruction

So should I take that path; as you have done, and wither in the moonlight

Or carry on in shadows as a broken mess of flesh and blood; without

recourse, without the concern of spiritual enlightenment; without hope

Remember when you took my virginity; and how far we've come since then.

The patience of your breath, as you hollow out your veins and make amends

your words like toxic strings of pain; even flowing through the base of your

existence; what words can cradle you and comfort in the end;

Where all our bodies meet in a sea of ecstasy; and our deaths

Carry us beyond the blue; I'm coming to you, to seek out the secret gem you

hold within your mouth; and carry it far beyond you; beneath the grave,

where sparrows land; where the harsh, cold winter makes its home

There's gravity in our corruption; and in your youth you'll find

Bodies are an uneven form of silence; noticed from above, even where the gods

live; and when you walk beneath the surface of the sea; within the mind's

cavity, where serpents dwell; you'll find the bitter parts of me yet

Frozen gold and melted wax, grown cold; evening's come again

And you lie naked in your bed, thinking about me; when feelings have corrupted

the innocence of flesh; and you'll tie rings around your fingers; and melt in

a bed of wax and flesh; as you dissolve in the sea of lust, and pain

Ice will only melt; when you've grown shallow enough to see the world as an

adult; and these drops of blood; and wax, and mud; and sea water, in your veins

Will wash your sins clean for an hour, while we tempt the facets of the flesh.

Our ties are broken, and our legs are buried in the sand; as we meet each

other, hand in hand beneath the ocean waves; there is a distance and a color

the shade of ivy; that stands between us; as the waters wash over us

And the sea corrupts the remainder of our desire's urge

I feel myself falling, into your lap; and you take advantage of my youth,

my unknowing mind, that doesn't have the understanding of what love entails

As I grow thin and pale; and my parts blossom into being

And insecurity drives me; pulls me under beneath the ocean's tide; and we

make love to the sound of the rain pelting the surface; and you and I take

each other in; and grasp against the wind's resolve to tear us apart

The motion of the singing tide breathes heavily against our backs

And within the resounding waves I bring myself to bare everything to you;

exposing flesh and soul in a burst of bravery, instilled by love's resolve

To have you completely as my own; and I drown myself in the flames

Of an everlasting fire; just to have you, and to hold on to a dream.

We trap our feats in sinful pleasures; as we proceed through life's abandonment,

your hand, wrapped in vines; as is mine, still waiting for you to say my name;

and as the shallowness of youth rises; and the temperate waters of death regain

Their consciousness; I'm drowning in a sea, isolated from my innocence

Washed in judgment and bathed in the impurities of a wild imagination let loose;

growing cold, and parting lips with you; as we grow old, wondering what tomorrow's

life will bring us; for the parting of the sea; or our destruction

In its wake of violent freedom in the resurrection.

The raven's waters, where I was born; I feel them now inside me; and they comfort

me in sleep, as I was broken they healed me and let the pain dissolve; and her

breath against my neck; her wildness of character, and her flaws

All gone to violent endings; all gone to the purging of the sea

But we will wait it out, and see the end; whether our contradictions play a part,

and whether her fast feet will patter their way within my heart; and we will see

That violence of your institution, and how it wavers and withers and dies; within

the sight of love's last measure; and you will not have my hand to hold in the end.

When the pattern's been resolved, and there's a quiet in my skin; and your breasts

sing with the choir of the angels; I stroke them gently; and beneath my tongue

lies secret words that only your ears will ever listen to; the calm solitude

Of our beloved forms; making love to the dissonant rhythm of our extremities

You would have spoken plainly in the depths of the changing seasons, and you

would have purged your heart of all the toxic love I'd given you; if only there

were time to change the life's beaten pathway; if only we had not broken

Each other's trust; at length, and at sorrow's anguish I gave you

The key to what was hidden beneath the soil; and you exchanged with me; your

secret, lust's token having been taken for granted; I hold you down, now,

in a bed of rose petals; and lay you under me

Beating my rhythm against you; my dissonant sounding voice

And you rise and fall; and rise and fall again to my voice; perplexed

and in the involvement of enraptured ecstasy; hear my sound, and drive your

body into the fulfillment of the night's last wind of howling.

I gave you all I had, but you wanted more from me; my one desire kept secret

and locked between my thighs; where do you keep your heart when I am gone,

And when the night drops her shadow from above; where does your reason go

When insanity breaks your mind; and lets you drive corrupted spheres I hold

the distance; as a sour and unmaintainable construction; I fold my hands in

and let the air of this disentangling world set me on fire;

For false footsteps made in snow; for all the dreams we've turned

Upon their head; and heart devours their simplicity; we phrase our speech

the way we stay ourselves when desire comes wishing at the door; and we

watch the denting movements of a hurricane of love; consume the soul

No more fanatical behavior; no more twisters in a darkened room

No more love; as if two bodies could contain a single sphere to arrange

themselves in perfect harmony; no more constraints and constrictions;

We move as if we've loved one another many times before; and we have

in the physical sense of the word; but love has ties with resurrection,

and with purity; and isolation; So let me love you as I've never done before.

Let me restrain myself from you; to the end of the world, in flames.

We are tired in the preserved statement of light; coming out of breath

and into life's eternal word; exchanging statements in the shadows is our

last hope to capture any semblance of our love's embrace;

So we speak beneath the open gaze of stars; and lose our virginity

To each other in a lasting expression of sympathy; our horses are tied

and our silence only goes to show we have nothing left to offer each other

Purity of mind, encompassing the placement of our dreams

Drowning out our thoughts; restless but free of God's enclosure;

we brand ourselves as damned and drink the wine of the offering,

seeking silence yet again as the vast distance between us sets us

Ill at ease; unrest becomes another name for God;

And the silence yet again purges us of our sins, as we hold on to

the crying of our peace; the destitution of our insanity; as we rise

against the venom flowing within our veins; and try to purge

Ourselves again of sin's reluctance to leave; we try to drive

The demons out with rituals meant to make a mockery of God's embrace;

and we seek closure; and we seek the unrest of the revolutionaries,

Death becomes us; as we strive to attain the mercy of the gods.

Her last rhetorical smile in the sun; as she gives away her soul

at the bleeding hour, when all has become corrupted; and her youth

is stained with the sinful desires of her lover,

So she had given in; so she had closed the doors to innocence

And let the flood waters take her in; purging her last hope of life's

simplicity; and her gaze washes along the shorelines of her past,

when once she was a girl without the dirt of adulthood

Staining her breast ; and she hadn't bled the blood of infatuation

Nothing of the written words between lovers had pressed into her hands

she hadn't fear of her rejection; for all her lines were perfect;

I loathe the summer of our lust's immersion; full and devoid of

any hint of love; when you purged me deeply of my innocence; and my

remaining words; virginity plucked like an easy feather

For to grab hold of; and you grabbed me so tightly as to make me scream

Here I am; now, at the hour of our lust's bleeding, holding onto

shadows in a dark field of grass; leaving nothing but the wind at my

back; to seduce me;

Seduce me once again; in the darkness of my world.

You close my eyes, and in this sweet silence entrapping the mind; I think

of you, and your soft hair flowing beneath me; and the unsettled quality

of our love's affair, blue and sad with and air of self-destructiveness

And I want to hold you all the more; for this bitterness of love

And consume you with the crickets' call; as they weave their words through

the emptiness of this night; and I would have you one last time before

our meeting with death; before the finality of all things

I will have you in my bed, one final time; to draw you in like water

Into my spring; and set the sheets aflame, consume our souls in love making

and dance upon the waters of our lust; in bed, to the destruction of ourselves

It isn't long now, I can hear the angels' trumpets in the reaches of the night;

calling out for our consumption in the hells; we've little time to breathe

within our wasted hour; so take me as I am; and let the waves of desire

Flow through us like the ocean's tide; and we'll place each other

Side by side, in a bed of salt water; and crave the push and pull of the ocean

its essence, and its behavior; the waves rushing through our bodies like fire

And as we finish; as we have love's last embrace within our grasp,

you'll lay me down and scatter me within the tidal flow.

There is a pain within my heart;  
bleeding through the pages of my books;  
Sometimes it settles; and letting go of the words  
makes life more wonderful; corruption, anger; disease

These fluid pangs of thought; just dreams, and subtle  
trails of blood running through the pages of my books;

When ill at ease, nothing seems to matter;  
and when I let go, insanity takes its hold; so I subsist  
on writing passages, and penning words I may not have  
a rhyme for; but spilling out the poetry is sublime

And for a moment, I can hear the voice of God;  
crying out on the water's edge; and I can feel in my voice  
the strain and structure of a union,

Once more I travel through the darkness that has awoken;  
purging out the peace of mind I may have gained a glimmer of

And hope's resistance bites against my cluttered mind;  
enough to know that this may be my end; to extract  
a measure of myself in words; and find the time

To inflict myself with the ecstasy of love.

It's a curious rhythm, the heart; beating through pain and ecstasy; without

restraint; and causing the life within to wither or expand against the

barrier of death; I choose you to place within this solitude

Confined within the substance made of muscle matter; to be bound

With each life consuming the other; let us make four rings of ivy, and place

them where we stand; and have a ceremony; with vows and a lusty embrace;

Keep cool temperament; and reduce our heat to naught,

But let the souls be reunited within this solemn oath; I give you mine,

take it and eat; this is the essence of my love;

So thought becomes a mindful trick; and ecstasy a vow made of glass

That you and I should be made known to the gods of love; and spared our

knowledge of each other for the distance in our eyes; take heart,

And sin's remains shall be our fearful consequence;

To have and to hold; and to shelter in the darkness of the night.

You crave the solitude of two's company; and I the bliss of thoughtful

regrets, spread out upon a blanket of deceit; as indirect submission to our

lies, carry on then; let us be grateful for this offering of the night

And to our homes, and in the shadows we will spread our pieces

Between life's abandonment and nature's adornment; we will edge our way

into the capital of crime; seizing every opportunity to take a hostage,

and I will take for mine; your eyes, wetted in the milk of our love

Translucent spheres of diminished value; a birthed cessation

Blowing wind and water through the skies, drenching us in spray from the

bottom of the sea; and I welcome your intuitive derision; as it passes

through the crimson sea

Carry me to the edge of isolation; and drop me down into your bed

And bury me in screams of ecstasy; as I devour you with painful emotion

and drink your orgasms one by one; beneath you, carrying your threaded

thoughts of the night's chill air; I'll sweat and burst with desire

Through all our bleeding and our pain; and our love's quenched thirsts

You'll bury me once more; a time longer, before the shore has receded

and left us only the sands of time to hold onto.

We meet in the silence of the shade; your colors bright as the day I

met you and your body; the form that you take is perfect in every way;

The sheets dance in the wind, as you take my hand and raise it to the sky

Why do we laugh such a short time; and wither in the shade for the rest

of our lives, seeking solace and solitude; seeking the sun's bright rays

to wash over us and consume us; as the tide rolls in, I find your eyes

Sparkling in the mist; and raise a candle up to see you closer

Warm, wet lies spoken between surreptitious glances at the sea; your

envy placed within a bottle; corked and thrown out into the void

Place my hand in yours; take a deep breath, and watch the world's

End; peace and war, and all the corruption of our enmity torn in two;

like the hollow of a holy film, the split scenes where God and His angels

dance the offset dance of death; and cause destruction of the temple

It's an emotional affair; past the long ending road to chaos

We all descend; and all descendence is to death's greatest offering to God,

the bright and everlasting purpose; when all the light has been consumed

And the universe explodes into being.

The base of our interruption; where deeper things than I have ever dreamed

spring out of the waters, and as we pass each other in the hall of our

ancestral home; I carry in the light of our abandonment; and bring forth

The rose; each spiralled pricking thorn; stuck into my skin

And come November, when the autumn's leaves have changed, and sent me

to the bottom of my unconsciousness; thirsting for redemption,

To you, I'll pick apart the glass shards, and keep them close to me;

for bleeding out my fantasy of your deep thrust within my skin

And as I close my flesh with thread; you'll whisper sweet serenities

And I'll expose myself; my breasts, my thighs; my permutations

of the night; each empty carbon cluster of my body, read and torn

The pages; these tickered tapes of words; spilled out in ink

Why does the body not digest your passion, your embrace; I spill

each mention of your name upon my dress; leaving stains

Soak up the blood in cloth, and let us make a new disentangled mess.

Make way for our surrender to the flesh, these broken chains  
have held me in for far too many years; and now, the night is  
calling for the worst of our irreverent laughter

Disentangle my vows, and break my faith in ecstasy; carry  
out your words with little left for longing of redemption;  
break me as your slave; the soul's enraptured fury stains

Its breath begins to clarify my consciousness, but I

Remain a bitter poison, dripping off the tongue, a sore siren  
singing her heart out; for just a taste of your seductive skin

Bring me God's appointed messenger, that she may see  
your heart; and the things you crave; the darkness of desire

And she will watch us, making love in fire; burning in the coals  
dried, contemporary bursts of flame; licking at each other's  
wounds; the forest and the night have come; and Satan's

Hour; the witches' brew; we'll drink the batter of our internal  
combustion; to save our last desire's work of art; the fleeting  
spit of our emotive cell; lust's greatest endeavor

We'll know what lies beyond the veil,  
when the good witch wills;

And the time of our corruption, and of our sanity; has split.

Her feet, bare and dry; smooth and cold, the way I'll always remember her last

visit to my house; with the heat turned up and symphony on the stereo; we made

love to the music, in my bed; and then I crouched beside her, whispering

In her ear; all my madness I had given birth to then

The dissonant noises of my psychotic trance; burning up with lust and insanity,

I made her name the states ; I made her count the stars ; and as we spoke,

Like diamonds, she calmed me ; like thunder, she made me say her name

In this way, every atonement ever made was given weight; and my birth, and my

conception date were named; like fate's dismal stare against the night sky

We weaved ourselves in sin; and took the plastic for our bed

In my contemporary mind's eye; I couldn't shield her from my dreams, or from

the things I've seen in my hallucinations; and she tried to purge them from

me; tried to help me get a grip on things; but in the end

I bled myself, I cut myself; I tried to escape the rhythm that was myself

And she gave up the reason for her stay; she gave up everything, and walked

away; without guilt. While I lay in a bed of my own design; drenched in my

own blood and tears; remembering her feet, bare and dry; smooth and cold,

And the winter's last touch of her inside my bed.

Beyond the sea, in the drifts of time where oceans lie dormant;

you capture me in waves of ecstasy, rolling in on your tidal

storm; and it brings me to the place where I was born

The small rocks and the sand of the shoreline; the suds

Issuing in my form upon the land; you are my energy, my will

to live; you are aesthetic perfection, written on the clouds

with spilt seed of desire

And in my youth, in my innocence and my willful attire

I charmed you in a burst of sexual desire; spun on the cotton

of my mind's edge; you threw me into bed and we made love

through the evening; as you whispered to me the secrets

Of your marriage; and of your wish to have my virginity

I came to you speaking only of a simple form of love;

of the heart's pure refinement through the fires of faith

and you taught me the heart's filthy lesson,

Lettered in scarlet upon my chest.

Forty lashes with a belt; for saying I was sorry, for being weak. And I am

weak, and I suppose that's why I'm always being beaten by the world; but come

the day of defilement; come the edge of the ending of the world, when all

will stand exposed before the sun; and tried

I'll have sold off everything I own to be a part against the grain;

And as the short walks in the woods go; as your whispering in my ears; when

lights are dim and there's no one around but us; and God's discovered angels,

So take a rest; what words you have just keep them to yourself,

I haven't time or care for antics of a shallower form of despair; I can love

you and I can still let you go; the week's been rough, and I don't need you

occupying my time with your charades;

Cutting loose myself took little pain; to beat off the pale hands

Insanity: The cold form of sleep; dreams and waking life bleed; and sing into

each other, there is little to temper and to promote a single system of belief

Gods' hunger, and the Devil's thirst; we raise an olive branch between them,

Calling for a truce; a simple psalm from a simpler time, but there is no more

peace in arms there than there'll ever be; and we can only think to give a care;

There's more to this than light magic and some trickery; these are dirty deeds

filtered out by the harsh, dying sun; reaching through our blood, into our clothes.

The biting sensation on my skin; the crawling insects stinging in; the

flood of the planes overhead; seeking someplace to land, some way to feel

secure in this broken world; and every dream in isolation is the same,

Three parts bleak and one part open-ended; with surgery

On my mind; with the chaos of my cluster in time weighing down on me;

and all the planet belongs to one god or another; so as we see the reason

for my madness; as we watch the shards of glass spinning into us

And we bleed ; I bleed for the devastation and destruction to end

For the deliverance of passion to take hold of my body; and begin its

holy clash with the devil's trumpeter; while we make love in a field

of daisies, and devour the milk and honey of our season

Two isosceles foraged from the wood; one for you and one for the gods

We'll place a tablet of my sacred script, upon your grave; in place

of a headstone; and we'll place you in your coffin in the night;

Still breathing and still coughing up your lung

And I'll take the angel's hand upon my breast; and let her feel me

let her in between my legs, to steal away my purity; and as you watch

while bleeding from the scars of your transfusion

We'll make a pyre for you; and pray to you at dawn.

The passion we've composed, between the hours of the night; within our

bed; exposed and dreaming all the world a bath of ecstasy, with curtains

wide open; and our neighbors do not care; we sing to the god of fulfillment

Dreams can enter shadows; as the foreskin plays its melody

And when the night issues a flood of pain; for our supposed sins, we shan't

complain, because we knew our price in gold; while working the flesh; while

letting the mind breathe heavily against the back side of your body,

What cold complaint could be forced out of me; and what madness,

To the belittled structures of the minds of unbelievers, in magic and in

the desires of the flesh; passion's cold corruption; and the sores it leaves

What mind has an eye for the grace of God; what profusion plays solely

On the innocence of its young, untainted prey; what blind eye can corrupt

the youth, no it must be the dangerous; and the one with intent to cause

corruption in the flesh and in the souls of his devoured

I place my heart within his hands, and let him work magic;

While my thighs are wide open and ready for an entrance, each construction

each contemplative gravity of our youth's song, comes unrestricted in the mire

Souls die; and people fade away; but what of the melancholy youth;

who wishes to fly, but cannot find the season of her launching.

We bury this construction of a fantasy; without the education for our work,

without the knowledge to break through and see beyond the window's glare;

it's dust and fire and ash; to stare into the sun and laugh,

It is a cold day, sitting beside the fire next to you

Without a coat; without a blanket, without clothing to keep me warm; just

our bodies touching and the heat of the metal grill burning our feet and

leaving scars; I take you in and under me, as the willow tree

Consume you whole, within my custom built frame; look into my eyes

See the pain of all my years from being wrapped in flames; watch me

as I digress into a sea of madness; and behave in the way the lunatic

plays her role; laughing hysterically; judging and diluting your ease

There is a filter, and a sadness; marked upon my brain; that won't

Let anyone in; it won't let you place your mark upon me, of love's

intoxicating substance; it is a guard, and I keep it up; it filters

out for caution all my lovers' mistakes; and carries me inside

Insanity's embrace; this bitter cold place, where I live out

Untold fantasy after fantasy; reborn again in the fires of my lust

and I drink the wine of the holy offering; and eat the sacred loaf

While making love to you; beneath the shadows of the willow tree.

My eyes in passionate love with yours; the treat of this requirement of faith

poured out between our souls; as if we were young lovers, as if we were strangers

meeting for the first time in a dark alley; this is what it means to me

To be in love; to be infatuated with the toxic kiss of love

And as the night grows dim, and weary arms won't purchase any longer on the flesh;

I believe I'm lost again, I believe there's nothing left to grasp; so I try harder

To find my bed; and bury myself beneath the sheets; with all my lust expended

I would still find ways to entertain my guests, push me out; love, push me out

extend your force, expend yourself on me; I crave the passion in your strength

as you move me; and as the walls close in, and as the dust settles

I can only breathe a moment before the lights go out; and in this sunless sky

I cradle myself, I wrap my body in its naked form; caressing as if I were my own

fair-skinned lover; wrapping close my warmth, and drowning out the bleeding hurt

Tonight, I will swallow in my lover's seed; and drink the wine of gods

And not rest until I've satiated both of our desires; once more will I fall into

the patterns of misuse; and drink myself into a pool of madness and abuse;

We'll draw straws, and sing the hymns of angels; while you look at me,

With your eyes filled with intensity and the singularity of love.

In this extensive rhythm's sour pulse; to what we were before the fall

and into our beloved's arms, we speed headlong; for nothing is as it was

The great but not forgotten syndrome of our flight into unreality

A choice is made; and love is broken as it were in standing, I feel light

falling across my face, as I corrupt my remainder of an innocent truth;

four arms stretched to hold ourselves in this embrace,

One false movement in the night, captures our intoxication's sentence

And as we fly through the starless night sky; to find some place to rest

our bodies from passion's long tirade; we sculpt each other in fur,

we place each other inside ourselves and shelter from the winds

Each blow, a cold and toxic death trap; these howling winds

Like the death of a muse; like substance extracted from the depths of

our being; like the final purge of innocence, stained with a bed of sin

and dropped into the fire of a hell; transformed matter of a soul

I walk with you on the shoreline; waiting for an answer

But the only answer is the cold and sudden death of the night sky;

bleeding into my veins, and making a mockery of my God; it's true

what they say of hell and of the body of our Lord; it is an easy

Denial to take the flesh, and eat; to take the blood, and drink.

My purity is lost, and I can't find a shelter from this pouring rain,

no doubt the innocence I've left behind will cause me bitter pain;

as I go silently through life, without a score to follow

Without music in my heart, or something warm to sleep next to

Desire trumpets all the louder, now that I am stained and black;

seeking secrets at the midnight hour; and scouring my mind for some

trace of my sanity left uncorrupted; I have little hope

What bleeds through the corners of my ill mind;

For thoughts born from perception, traces of my blindness, I peer

through the shadows only to find more darkness hidden in the depths;

to seize responsibility, to let this corruption of my youth

Empower me somehow; that I may bleed and bleed freely into the pools

Of time, making a mess of my life, and of my bedclothes; I seek escape

from you, the turning of the clock back into time's awaiting hour

When all the world turned silent; and I turn back the clock an hour

To see you standing over me, to watch you undress; to wait in

anticipation of our closure; I still dream of you, perfect breasts

and eyes the color of the sea, I wake at night

Within the ocean's tide; hoping you'll come back; hoping you'll

deliver me from this madness.

We wet our eyes with our intentions; our false execution of what life had

meant, and drown ourselves in the bitter fires of our lust; while we remain

unbroken and unabased, we shed the years of wanting to find meaning

In this world of chaos and collision; wreathing ourselves in flames

Of our lust, passion's play; and its constriction upon the memory of youth,

the sour bite of simple skin, entertained and oxygenated; a flood of

messy waters and simple restraints, to hold in what was left of sin

I care for you, and hold my longings deep inside my heart

But in their derision; in the foreplay of our shallowness of heart,

I cannot collect this silent air which plays the song of our demise;

I stir, and my corruptions stain my bed; but I cannot hold onto you

Past the midnight hour; there are other lovers needing my attention

Force and strain, and the dithering of our deceit; my conception

in a blaze of lust, passion's everlasting dream; I sing a hymnal

of our reverent dystopian estate; and ask your name, once more

As if the washing of the tides had worn it thin.

Lovers in union, holding onto what is left of each other; as if the night

will peel them back, and they will turn to dust and ashes by the morning;

each other's quiet words, playing upon the tongue as night grows thin

What lovers say to issue in their hopes and fantasies; but truth is somewhat

Crueler in its remarks; and we will bleed our hearts come morning time;

when the cock crows, and we must part ways, I'll be forever silent

holding onto the memory of tonight; and I will pray that we'll cross paths

And I will stray into the darkest alleyways, searching for a remnant

Of this peace of mind; this cessation of insanity's cruel barrage, as it plays

upon the depths of my emotion, do not leave me. Let the cold waves of the autumn

breeze take us; and let the night swallow us whole, together

I will crave your company, when it grows dark again; and the mists

Will draw me in; deteriorating what is left of stability; I'll hold myself

beneath the ocean's flow; and watch the footprint patterns of my air seeping out

And in the darkness; I will make a shelter for my bones, to cast a doubt

Against the sea; to cast myself within its breaking crest.

As we walk the edge of night, heading for the corruption of the moon;

I take your hand in mine, and gaze at our imminent dissatisfaction with

each other's kiss; I dream that you were not the girl I have come to know

And watch myself as I let go of all my fears and hesitation

And let you take me in your arms; and let the world fall apart, and leave

me hanging by a thread of corrupted skin; how beautiful it was when we

were speaking from a distance; how beautiful the lies you said,

But now it's dark, and there's no room for rebuttal; we've consented

And my kiss blows into you; as you consume my wasted youth; and drink the

toxic substance that was my mind; and I lay there, helpless and afraid

of your dreamy words; your perfect speech; and your serene character

It is all but a dream, and you've descended on me like a dark serpent

Shuttering in my life's substance, and bleeding me of every thoughtful

decision; I will bury all my years of work to bleed within your arms,

even for a moment's passion, before the crowing of the birds;

And every ailment I will suffer at your hands, will be a testament

To the failure of my mind's forgetful phrases; to call you out and

bury you against the sea's ever-mindful fury; to reject your hand

And to make the bleeding cease.

Your mindful lies, against the grain of my insanity; they rise and fall

as waves; crashing against the interior of my skull, and I blanket them

with my own internal deceptions; a stake against the heart of truth

Why must demons seize all of our perception; and twist it like a wire

Your fur coat; your matted hair, the clusters of your burns, when we were

innocently playing the roles of mother and child; lovers in heat,

you drowned me in your womb, and sank me deeply; enough that I couldn't

Breathe easily; and death consumed my lot in life; it was a challenge

Reaching the planes of life for my existence; I looked back, am looking

still today, for a grasp; some small purchase to be placed so I may

breathe easily; and sink my body into you again

Life, the ebb and flow of it; as of the tide, estranged beauty and the

harbinger of death's throes upon the surface of my soul; I'm bleeding,

Can't you see the rush of blood proceeding from my skin

These slits within my wrists; this cause for complete denial of one's

self; the bitter disharmonic oscillations, trying to compensate for

youth's rebellious attitude; and I faint

The world grows dark and dim, and you escape; mu love, into the night.

Your loose collision; unstrapped and tangled mess of hair, your

ensemble, baring your breasts as they are; so perfectly matched

to your eyes, and as I stare within the remainder of my innocent

Lies, I keep closed the shores to the denial of my heart

Your prolonged interaction with the sky keeps me hanging by a

thread of light's reflection; as though the winter frost had

just begun to form upon our lips; let us warm the cave,

Let's shake away the wintry chill and ice; flow water through

Our extremities; flow blood from our cuts and from our lips

and breathe in the toxic fumes of lust, let them subdue us

as we sip on broken, cracked lips and drink each other's

Body fluids; and as we sit on broken, cracked cement

And drink each other's sustaining love; I will imbue you

with a soul of ecstasy; and call upon you in the night

to purge my lust; to feed the flames of my desire,

Oh, you must! And we will sit and wait for the remainder,

sipping off each other's naked skin; the blood that was our

consecration and the embittered blood that was the staining

Of our sins.

Our wish, and our surrendered sin; the blade stuck between out backs

and the crying deep within between breaths; you saved me once, to let

me fall again; in this slowly moving contraption where I lay restless

Broken wings could not fly; and I could not fly from the start

So you held me, my darling; through the starlit night, while I gasped

for breath, and held my own against the fever that would consume me;

the plausible denial of our estranged love; it would consume me

So night begins to reach within my breast; and take a part of me

While I reach beneath my dress; and let you take a part of me,

Too soon to call it lust or passion; it is a selfish act, set in stone

and thrown against bricks; for pleasure, and for pain I drew you in,

against my own will; I let you proceed; in the throes of ecstasy,

I dashed my head against the board and let it bleed; so profuse

The substance, letting loose the bonds of my anticipation; I bleed

and in the river of my sunken mind; intoxicated by the fumes of your

desire; I bleed against the rhythms of your love making

And when it is over; when the crying has ceased, and all our inactions

have taken place within our room, I let you go with a secret I've

divulged, the dressing for the cake you've just consumed,

And for the cold walk home, in the night's refreshing air; to ponder.

These loose connections, buried deep within the mind; burning up with

passion, buried stains of sinful dreams; left to unleash against the

current tide of homeless drifters; I walk in steps around their lives

Looking for a way to break through; and to discover my own reflection

In their eyes; locked fantasies, dreams waiting for an outlet to be

realized; though pain lies at the doorstep, passion wants to be let in

I need to find a way to break the silence of the muse; and capture her

Before I fall, and break my wings; before the curtain swings shut

and I have left the stage, wanting with my desire; I will focus on her

form, and on her substance; I will make the call to comprehension

And when the night falls; and she has left me barren

I'll read to her in whispers, in the blackness of my world; where light

has been shut out; and day no longer breaks; and I will bleed myself

Make cuts upon my wrists; and scar myself, relentlessly

To the intoxication of the nightfall; and to the bitterness of dreams

left unfulfilled; the readings will continue on, in silent phrases

I'll be bereft of summer's swift beauty; in the autumn's chill night.

We drift on; in the patterns of the tide, washing away the madness of our

minds; we drift on, encompassed from around by the sea; its arms grappling

and its hooks forced between our lips; and we succumb to the will

Of the ocean, its rising and falling breast; we subside within

The rolling tides, and there we lose touch with our innocence; surrendered

to the goddess of the sea, we are ensnared, being drawn into the sea

And while we watch each other's flesh burning; we silence our fears

And let the heart pulse more softly, we breathe the air ; sparse wisps

of oxygen, into our lungs; beneath the surface of the sea, while we make

love beneath the pattern of the waves; and cut our wrists with knives

To let the sea's salt water inside our bloodstream; to leak ourselves

Into the ocean's comfort; we make waves as we make love, and leave

the air with our deep moanings; no echo and no god to call out to,

our only dissonant sounds are left without a trace; rejected by humanity,

Only we will know our past; only we contain the static noises of our sound

The crimson fury of our spasmodic dance, leaving trails of blood within

our wake; we burn and crash beneath the ocean's crest; driving each other's

hearts into a flurry of ecstasy; cold winds touch our backs, and we continue

Our dance throughout the night; beating love into a pillar of salt and fire.

So you say, but I can't believe the all of it; there's too much clutter

in this world to stamp out reason; it's a bright star that shines in the

midst of the morning and I won't have it any other way, your dystopian

Solliloquies of sweet remembrance; your bitter speech, wrapped in plastic

In the guise of one's anticipatory smile; I fail to appreciate your small

talk. Something in the way you move me; it's something deep, that I can't

put a finger on; I wish you would just hold me, and stare into my eyes

So I could capture you on film; within my memory, secret crush

My eyes have a secret crush on you, and when the length of your words

wraps around my hips; and the plastic bag you held me in grows thin

and translucent; I will stare into your eyes again, until the setting

Of the sun in its full glory; And admonish myself with the small steps

Into an ancient lair; where I have carved your face upon the rock;

love's lies only mention once the bitter scars that we have issued

upon our flesh; mine are sacred and secret; and lie beneath my sweater

Your insolent smile permeates my transparent looks; better to keep

You hanging on a thread, better to hold out my hand and let you see

the scars within my shirt; tucked away and secret; better to carve

myself a new one; and let you watch as the blood runs down my wrist

And to lick the wound before your eyes; and feed you my hungry stare.

The length I watched your movie; the flow of time as I sat still and waited

for the happy ending which never came; it droned on and on, without any

resolution; just a flux of film, relocated through the passages of mind

And as I waited in my seat for your next movie to begin; I lifted up

My dress and began to touch myself; this heavenly interruption to your dirty

film; spasmodic waves of orgasm; without complaints, and in the middle row

I crested; and regained my composure

Your story is as good as they said it would be; despite its lack of character

involvement; despite its timing ; its sequence of display, despite everything;

It reached me ; in the depths of my self-exposure

You like to run, play hide and seek; so I'll begin and I will be your prey,

hunt me in the shadows like a serpent does; seek me slowly, and strike

when the time's enclosure comes; slither and secure your mark upon my flesh

Drive in your fangs; seeping toxins in my veins; and in my blood

And I will carve my flesh with your name, my secret lover; my singular complaint,

drive in your lust; and let the fluids flow through my blood

And I will carve my flesh and feed it to your hungry soul; I'll distance myself

from my skin and bone; and you will leave me naked and alone; depressed

And suicidal; without a place to turn to, to capture my identity.

This fuse you've set within my mind; driving me crazy, is a blessing I think

in disguise as a pornographic film set in the era of puritanical america;

And I would feed your discrete profession with my naked self

Pouring like water over your film reels; making thunder rise with the beating

of my heart; do you love me, and can you say it to my face; if little else

matters; this place has soul and the silence of our lives leaves little else

To be remembered by; this little film of yours, stripped in shreds

Is the essence of my freedom; my self exposed to your naked eyes, breathing

heavy as I thrust myself between shots, lies pressed on lips, and the human

form exposed to bared breasts; shooting film as we go;

We make a mockery of substance and matter; we lie naked between each other's

Arms, cradled and held for a time; resting for what seems eternity in love,

and the show must fade away into the regression of sin; as we rise to yet

another occasion of our simplistic sphere; we make drinks and talk

Remind each other that this was merely an exposure of the mind to other

Matters; reality can chip away, can crave the youth's experimentation but

this hand in sin remains touched and forever broken by our stains.

An experimental air in a small space to call our own; when we close the

curtains and lock the door, we will shut out the light and the neighbors

and God; but leave the outside light on, so our prayers may still be heard

I fixate on your lips as you speak words, incoherent to my mind

And as we press into each other; the mind is filled with passion, and flooded

with the threat of pain; your leaving in the morning, and my empty grave;

waiting for the fulfillment of my innocence; purchased for a night's

Pleasures of sleeping with the one I love so deeply; so fully,

It's like a hole within my heart, and it bleeds; the double-edged blade

descends into me and complains it hasn't purchased enough of my flesh to be

satisfied; so it cuts further in; this pain only strengthens my lust

I dissolve myself in a bed of ecstasy, devoured whole by your words

My mind succumbs to their meaning, as the passion rolls off your tongue

like a drop of saliva ready to enter my mouth; and I suck at it; and draw it

into me; your words the bare minimum of my resolve; I shall lick you clean

Now the blood boils; and now my patience has no virtue left;

There is but a dark longing in my loins; to draw you in, and I draw with

fire and with the remainder of my breath I bathe you in poison; drowning

in my own toxic flame, I seek the call of the night

To birth me new in a sea of blood and oil; mixed with wine.

The violent flood of our discussion, that left me devastated;

when you took my mind and thrust yourself inside it, leaving me isolated

and alone after your withdrawal; I can read your looks and I can feel

The heartbreak coming on already; would you leave me in the middle

Of this mess, to carry out the broken pieces of myself; I'm made of glass,

so don't pretend you haven't had enough of my mistakes, I need your

simplistic eyes to care for me; while your return could cradle me in

These awful wintry winds; and speed recovery of spring's seclusive hold,

I drop myself into the water; wishing you were here; I sink slowly

beyond the reach of your delicate hold; and I pick at old scabs and

wither myself in the reaches of a dream past tense; to trickle blood

Feel the warm rush of liquid running down the sky; I feel like summer

in bloom; I am a blossom burning up with heat, passion inside me burning

To a hundred degrees; my life is bottled up and needs someone to issue

an explosion of my lust; and feed me kisses and poison my lips with love

So soon after you are gone; I dream of another woman to fill the void

you left me with; and she will be as intoxicating as you were, in different

words; she'll speak in orgasms and fleshy sins; and we'll break the

Banner you left floating in the wind; we'll reach to the stars and bring

The shadows into our fold; and sing a praise to the goddess of the earth.

You walk into my life, and steal my heart; and then tell me it's been enough

and you're not interested any longer; it makes my mind turn slowly and my

heart sink; the heart you fed on is the only heart I have;

And time continues, while emotions carry over into bleak teary-eyed

Insanity, and I consume what is left of my life; television and a bit of

red wine; holding over for the crying fits, laughter has become a thing

of legend; I drop my pants for myself and make some love between my legs

And stifle another fit of crying; these bursts of insanity that purge

What life is left and I make small incisions in my wrists; to ease the

pain of passage; and I resist the urge to smoke while you enter in my

mind; if all things were as easy as a child had understood them,

But the cradle breaks, and we're left longing for our innocence

You stop to preserve a moment with me; if you would stop to enter in,

I would let you in without question; without a care for where you had

been or who you've entered into sexual relations with; the meeting

Would be the only thing which mattered; your lips pressed against

My lips, pressed against you thigh; and the love issued forth from our

making; I would hold my hands out to you and cry; tears of joy mixed

with those of hidden pain, realizing the pact I've broken

When I said it was enough of fun and games.

Your waking, as I am sound asleep; and your heavy breathing in the

other room; it sounds as though you're sexually aroused, but I can't

hear your voice or heed your need for my attention

I'm drifting in the clouds of my imagination; keeping score

Of the times that you've abandoned me; of the thoughts that were behind

your eyes; the little lies that meant you weren't here, the face of my

own fears as they pushed me under; beyond the surface of the waters

Below, in the deep; where I meet myself in the surroundings of the sea

You call, but I don't answer; I have swept myself beyond what I can see

into the clouds of ashes falling like rain; into the thundrous place

Where distance can't allow my eyes to pierce; the grey beyond

And my mind turns; my feelings are purged, and I can't succeed in breaking

ground; I watch you, watching me on television; and listen to the

sounds you make while thinking about me; it's a wonderful feeling

This love; that cannot be remembered past the bedroom

And so I close my quiet eyes, pretending nothing has transpired;

I shut my capsule tight and secure myself for the ride into the great

beyond; and sentence myself to the death that I've encountered

In my dreams; I fold in upon myself and sleep with angels.

I have constructed our song; out of broken dreams and empty hearted melodies

and as we sing the chorus; there's a verse scripted in my mind of our

obsessive love, that cannot be contained by words; and so I sing it slowly

Through a verse of madness and deconstructive lies; of pain and anger

And as the water flows over me; I purge myself of blood, and raise the

temperature of the faucet, until I'm blinded by the pain; and I scratch

myself deeper with my nails; until the chaos sings

Dominant chords of a reconstructive nature; resolute migraines prominent

Reconstructive paths; and would you believe that I can hear the voice of

God playing on the water's film; when the plane is heading for the land,

face down with nothing left of hope; and an angel screams the siren

Of God upon the winds; I echo past your house, I draw down the curtains

And as we go through our lives, meeting strangers as they were at first,

asking questions of authority with no answers to their riddles; I feel

constricted as to what my true religion is; no one gave me a choice,

They all are built on some semblance of a lie; everyone blames

God for His failure to empathize.

Our flight through this corrupted pane of glass we peer through, setting out

against all odds of self-discovery; I drink the liquids you have offered up

to God; and hold your hand as we go into the night, bleeding in each other's

Arms; drenched in sweat and singing hymnals to the most high God

Drinking in each other's liquids as we drain the cup dry; and in tonight's

wild offering I'll keep my bath for myself, and give you the towel to dry

my naked body; two stones cast into a pool, an unforgotten place

Made of the bodies of the stars; I dream of angels and demons

And as I wake I find you disappeared, and I am left alone on this couch;

left alone to drown, left alone in this god forsaken world to roam

the earth without my lover's hand entwined within my own

Feelings go sour; and the old chains take their hold on me

What wish have I to plant within this open earth; for its abuses against

me, I have been betrayed by every semblance of life's great garden;

And I could hold my own seance to the demons of the underworld

But all I do is sit and pray that tomorrow I will leave this place;

unhaunted by my dissonant rhythms; and unhallowed because of my

disastrous love's desire gone unfulfilled.

The pieces of our forgotten life, thrown up into the wind; and blown

about for miles; scattered pieces of a transparent life; dashed against

a howling wind, together we will watch our world be blown apart

I can see your voice raised up upon the heights of the stars

Regulation in footprints as they make their way down the beachside;

your prints heavier than mine; while we transpire through this scenery

I capture every word you speak; and moment you cannot interrupt

Say with me a prayer to the old gods; let this be my memory of you

And we'll fade into the shoreline beneath the water's edge; and take

crisp pictures of our descent; into the mire and the mud; into our death

We'll leave our footprints moulded in the mud; and our love will last

Forever in this static state; against the flooding of the tide's waters

and against the baking of the sun; we'll leave an imprint for the gods

You speak as if you know this place; as if you've traveled here

Before our coming; and know the whole of everything, but I can't continue

on; not without a proper burial of our desire's heat; we must leave the

world in flames, we must bury ourselves in a pyre

What words we regain through our consciousness; buried in blood and ash

No more mind for this, ; I've no more mind for walking into the ocean,

there is a sea we'll scatter our ashes in; beneath this dying sun;

But not here; not at this hour, for there's a calling to the gods

that needs attending.

Around the fine lines you left me battling with; there is a sea of change

welling up within, and you won't even notice it; until I'm gone and left

Recent disruptions in my routine ; the feelings I've been sorting out

And all the changes in my moods and in my living space, it seems you hadn't

noticed; hadn't had the opportunity to breathe our patterns flowing in the

air; it's not love making; it's not an air of lust of of seduction,

It's the cold weathered fuse of life; it is the midnight purging

Crossed wires and a sentence, to capture a bit of the same ; one lie after

another, we'll pretend the game hadn't been played that way; and in your

eyes, and in your dearest heart; when the subtleties of magic are at stake

Risk the world, for what have you to lose but love and dreams;

Challenge is to say I have at my beck and call the angel of God; and I

go home, without denying my true feelings beneath these clothes, I hope

all is well; the dearest of the chivalry has passed, has been consumed

By unstable revelry, a spat with fire; and the synagogue

Dressed too poorly to enter; like a punk rock band, disheveled in the night;

if I could hold a candle up to something sacred, it would be the northern lights;

Standing on the edge of the world; looking up, and watching God dance;

Nothing else has such purity in this life, than love and magic.

You traded in your turncoat for a smile; so big and so misunderstood,

I watched your lessons as you taught the children and dreamed that I

could be so big as you; I'd open up the world and peer inside

What would dreams be if not big, what cacophonic measures they hide

And when you strayed for the first time, sleeping in my bed; it was

a bitter reunion for the both of us; time had told us not to do it

again; but there we were, in the throes of ecstasy ; and burning

Without patience as our virtue; for it claimed its right to devour us

And in our world of toxic sting, of carbons strung in pieces in our

shapes; but we can't hold a candle to ourselves, or shut the door,

reason and reality have become a burden and a stepping stone

I can't deny how much I've needed you; within my arms

Violent lights push against the wind; and a violent storm reaches

well within my heart to seize its simple string and pluck it,

the way you plucked me from my bed and laid me on top of you

There is so much blood; one can't remember the course of the evening

So much wine to drink; one cannot remember the day, so much retaliation

and cruelty; between our thighs; and if we wanted to devour ourselves

in sips; we could afford it,

I can call the remainder of our love affair off; and set you on the table,

and make of you a small reminder of something I once cared about;

And you ; frozen in time, will not remember me.

An undiscovered state of feeling helpless, my own attire purged of that complaint

and with my time spent throwing stones and breaking bones; I am the helpless one

indeed, spent nails and shattered teeth; without a hint of the lush fires growing

Underneath my skin; this burning in, my heart; who can understand these sins

Without understanding what life was like; or by whom they were committed; gross

majestic planes of thoughts; purged from fire and from the chill November air;

My might and my sadism, my alter-ego's flare; come cool and collected, when they

rise above the surface; but what is underneath; what ties the distance to the

traveler, and what would she speak; if she had words to spout; there is an empty

Grave, where lies are dusted off, and sins and spent; roll in it

Roll in it, and roll in the dark and mossy wood; with the seed of your spilled

virginity. In clusters and in folklore, we'll remember this discussion as you pin

down the almighty God and watch Him suffer as you abuse His perfect form;

There is no light in this incoherent world; no dust to long for taking

Everything purged is a series of discontentments; and your edge, your burning

blade cuts nicely in the hand, and on my needing wrists.

The pull of your weight against my psyche; as I drop my guard and let

you come inside; you move me like I've not been touched in a lifetime,

The golden weight of your presence; as it pushes against my inner thigh

And when we talk in somber silence; as you take what is mine, and

thrash its essence against a stone, I come as one uncollected and

in denial of the storm you've passed over me

So many days I've spent in my denial; weak, and impure of form

For the shadows rise to comprehend my situation; and I lack the

luster of youth's beauty, and I encourage a simplified drought

of self-denial, I wash my hair and bathe in the droplets of my own

Blood, shed on my white nightgown; distanced from the rest of me

Would you bother to take me into your fold, even though you have

another; and would she give me her place among the stars; among

the branches of your heart; and let me taste the world through

Your eyes, piercing the clouds and the sky; a drifter and a snake

I wake to see your body snowed in upon my doorstep, and as you

wait; I linger at the knob; although it is broken, although

I cannot let you pass this wall; without a command

I shed another drop from my skin's cut; and place the knob against

you, as you smile and step within the boundaries of my mind.

I melt into you; these soft and dreamy substances of our connective tissue

what lies bare in the wasteland of my thoughts, is your skin pressed hard

against my eyes; so I can see you clearly through the haze of night

Your wanting skin; and your devouring, what makes you move

And what makes me complete my sentence for to die; this open-ended earth

shattered and twisted within the mind's collective eye; and I keep thinking

Of how you spent your summer days, peeling off the layers of my

Insanity; trying ; in hopes, to gain some semblance to my mind; some means

to redirect my pain and find an opening in the shutters; if you've

succeeded, it isn't apparent to me; I'm drunken on the effigy of love

In small steps of close despair; a constant mindful trigger in the dark

And as you know, and as the body sings its song of deep surrender,

you go out; into the body of the sea, taking only my heart

As I wait upon the shore, waiting and hoping that I'll see you once more

Coming along the tidal front with what belongs to me.

The ego of your mind; complete with crawling centipedes, and your intoxicating

filth, the desires that led you into my lap; I hold my candle high into the

midnight stars, and drop the flame into your eyes; so I may see them bleed

We weep on inconsequential matters; how we sustain our sympathies

And the closed quarters of your bodily influence, resting in the trunk of my

pursuit; I wish it wouldn't have come to this, I wish the walls were thick

and our transitive existence had been purged from long ago

Beneath the advent of our dreams, lies the ecstasy of our birth

Hold me in your arms, and take me; try to let the birds fly freely in your

arms, and watch the winter flow now into spring; let the winds settle

and let the flame consume your eyes; burning slowly as it does

Perchance to dream; what sleep is there which could consume our entirety

Love is the last wash that we'll be submerged in; ecstasy and flame,

we'll birth each other anew and ride the waves; we'll walk in shadows

without the knowledge we have gained; rising on the tide of our birth

And when the cold wind blows again, into autumn's fall

We'll bring our shelter to the ground; and climb inside, without a care

of what may come when the snow falls; we'll have each other for our warmth

and take into the shelter all our wildest dreams

That they may bleed our eyes and leave us blind to love's lost cause.

Before we write a single word; before the walls complain and chastise us

let's build a bonfire for the remainder of our speech; and let our guard

down, and whisper anything that comes to mind; and burn it all

Into the ground; where the demons howl, into the rustling wind

Where God obstructs our justice, and cleanses our eyes with the purifying

flames of the sun's bright light; I want to take you in, and let you

move me, draw a shadow from your life's work and let it dissolve

Patient forms in dreams and still-moving waters, as they sing

Reason's calm insanity poured out as a birth offering; and I drown myself

in youth for as long as I am able; I wish to be the edge of the blade

that cuts my skin as I seek shelter from my madness

I wish to be the candle's flame as I burn my skin just enough to hurt.

What reason lies in this confetti mind, as strings of passages of

biblical significance wear thin; and dreams requiring epiphanies,

and small stings of antiquated life; roll under and beneath the mind

Roll under me, and take me from beneath; let's lie in the ashes, love

Or, forsaking the catastrophy of uncleanliness; I could purge my heart

and take you on the bed; it's a weathered and disheveled mess of lust

Breathe now, bleed with me; or forever hold your peace.

The dissolution of my entire permutation of thought; dissolved in

the blood of my transfusion; hopeful strings of disembodied laughter

dissect the mind; and cause its final collapse into your love

Pouring slowly, my heart beats its blood into your veins

The right collected thought; the perfect fantasy, picked and planted

where we can both enjoy the solitude of summer's embrace; the rising

and falling of my breasts; as I subside, myself no longer hidden

By the cauldron of my deeper; darkest dreams, the nightmares

Of my youth; and my obsession, I call you my new obsession; the causality

of my disembodied heart, the crevice in the cave where I transpose my

longings; the drip that will suffice; the sacrifice of blood

You'll wait for me, won't you; beneath the moonless sky

And I'll stay pretty; I'll stay in touch with my composed serenity,

as you approach my house; as you speak silent words into my mouth,

and stick your tongue deep inside; leaving an impression

Of love's lasting boundaries; and of hope, deciding to prolong

Its harsh exposure; I'll seed your tree within my womb; and take you

as an offering of change; and sweep the shelter clean, and drive

away the darkness from my mind.

We rise and we fall; our breasts beside us in the dead of winter;

and as you throw my blood into the snow, the rest of what was meant to be

my sacrifice to the gods below; I drain my mind of the depths of sorrow

Purging with a strain of innocence's survival; all my pain

And let loose the bonds of my constrictive youth; for shame, within

the confines of my attire; letting loose, I unwrap my body from its

enclosure and let you see the skin that lies beneath

And I stand naked, before you; holding only onto a single rose,

That pricks my skin; I want to bleed, I want to shed like drops of

tears my blood; upon this dirtied floor; let the wood consume my self

And as you watch, neglect to mention all my darker fantasies

I bleed enough to cover my thoughts with the pain, the forcible pain

present throughout my discovery of how long it can linger on the skin

And I reach down and touch myself, regarding your looks

As you fashion me an innocent; but I am not so innocent as it may seem;

I have passion and desire; and darkness, welling within my soul, and I

bleed; pain and ecstasy; in love's deranged psychosis

A bold statement of disposition; carried out with the denial of my self.

You dressed me in scarlet, before my time had truly come about; and when

my chest rose and fell; and when the beating in my breast receded, all

laughter had gone from my body; and I was left weeping with legs bare

Open to your bitter care; and bleeding myself as the night wore thin

You dared to call me your prize, as it was time to make a sacrifice;

and I wrote in my diary how well you'd been corrupted by my beauty,

It wasn't a fair entanglement; and you closed the door on me

Too much had I the reason to make you strip naked before my eyes;

and too much had I desired to see your breasts as a compromise of faith

We knocked on the door to heaven together; and made our existence known

And you drove out the devil from my eyes; my instinct for insanity's

arousal; how I couldn't see beyond the shimmering skies within me

And you blessed my vision with the calm and soothing substance of

rationalization; while I struggled with my own internalization of

Heaven and hell; and all their bickering layers of chaos and consumption

Tonight, above the roof of my enclosure; I see fit to let you go,

but the gnawing inside me; this scarlet curse, enclosed by rusty nails

Brings me to your doorstep; and to your warm embrace; that I may touch

your naked body and let all my worries drift into the wind.

An untimely sentence to corrupt the dream's weave; spit out in the fire

of my breath of insanity; as I succumb to sleep again, for an hour

you'll wash my hair; and tell me how beautiful I am

And I'll complain that you haven't seen the whole of me, I'll read

Your words as incomplete, and streams of niceties; I want you to see

beneath these clothes; every inch of my perceptive charms; and all

my lesser innocent parts; the grave within my holy hill

Where screams corrupt with madness; where little lies begin their

Tantamount reconstructions of my mind; I hold on to the little things

as much as you; but believe me, and reduce your special findings

to have taken in the whole; you'll see; you'll weep as you read

My deconstructive fantasies; I lied every time I told you what you

Wanted to hear; so take me in; and let me bleed myself, I'll cut

as you collect the droplets, and I'll gnash my teeth at the pain

Endorphins and the rush through my brain; these chemical collisions

I'll take you under and beneath me; process your thoughts in accordance

with my own destructive life; and as you hold me, I'll take pleasure

In the dance; and as you take me, we'll breathe together the sands

spewing in the wind.

Take my words; drop them in your ice cold water, take my burns; and do

the same; my cuts and bruises and the misery, and the shame; leave me

empty of my discontinuity of life; remind me again what purity

And innocence feels like; take me, and hold me for the night

And let our passion seep slowly into slumber, where you can disappear

and leave me passed out on the bed; to wake up in some other world;

distant and far from here, so is my fantasy fulfilled in your eyes

Lies, and sacred vows sustained; it is the essence of a dream

Washed clean and scrubbed in the vacancy of reality's abode; I wish

that you could fulfill thi one desire; to love me for a night, and

leave me wanting nothing in return; what shadows fall, and linger

Upon my doorstep; as I pass out in the bedroom next to yours

And of this night's anticipation, and its holding cell; I breathe

heavy with my waiting; with my desire, lost in the shadows of

my desperation; lost in the dreams that seize me up inside

And as I take my life within the bath; and cause this final

Separation of insanity from the mind; and life to flow freely out

of my veins; into the pooling red waters of the tide, I drink my

wine slowly and let the blood to pool; slowly as I think of you.

Heat, and all that comes to bear; beneath the stylus of the gods, I wash

myself in a bath of this disinfecting purity; and come clean, I want your

swift surrender to my thighs; and I want the necessity of simplistic

Press; each stroke left with an internalized impression; I desire

Your hand up against me; to claim my wasted soul; as it were anything

but gold seasoned by the flames; an internship, a seizure and a thinly

cut transcription of my endless possibilities for fame;

Dressed up in ribbons and a bow; you could be my one desire

Fleshed out for the future of my insanity's school; the drops of red,

bleeding into the pool; these are mine, and they come without warning

Issuing forth my body and my blood; as the eternal sacrifice to God

Press; each stroke left with an externalized impression; my desire

Wholly out of order with the gods' wishes; as your commandment to regain

consciousness of my sanity drops the night from my perspective; I realize

your one true order of business is to devour me, as you have never done

Passion's role in its participants; as we seize contraception's hourglass

You'll wash my hair in the milk of God, and send me to my knees;

beckoning me come to your order; and your command, and I'll take slavery's

part; and I'll procure for you a dissonance of design.

It is my one desire; to be loved, and so I sell myself into this recital

of a passion; this daring rehearsal for everything I've ever dreamed

and as you take my hand, and pull me under; into the coffin of my death

I drive myself wild with anticipation; and play the fool

Soft, wet lips and drying eyes; my tears have spread into desire's wide-

eyed frenzy, and as the lust commands; and as the feelings of the heart

represent; I choke on the anxiety of love's sweet swallow

Requested by the misery of an uncontained heart; broken in pieces

I stray; my youth remains a stain upon my skin, and as we bury ourselves

in the commemoration of destiny's resolve; I sweat and stain the remainder

of my skin; as if this light involvement couldn't shatter bone

Her eyes, and the request to see her dripping wet and naked;

My life's dissolving features; and the plain contentment I've endured,

through this passage way, through the door to its resolved command;

I bring you my heart, left in stone; for the immersion in your blood

Let it boil; and season it with the salt of your love

And taste, it can bring you ecstasy if it is your desire; the mark upon

my chest; leaves little curiosity; my faith and my insanity's design

sketched out the secret of your name, in flesh; I've written it

With the blade, with fire upon its edge; Seared and scarred.

Our disease, and your conception in my womb; these placid walls I see through

and I see through your eyes as you glare at me with wild wonder; open up to me

and let me into you; and I can comfort the stolid parts of your beneath

While we were ten; in the yard outside, I gave you then a moment's kiss

And we were fielded into shadows and into the mist of the mind; where I met

myself as one who couldn't occupy the same space twice; and in this shell,

I scratched against my arms until I bled; while you stood; stolid

Beside me; gently cursing my heart; caressing my body with your hands

The throes of epistemology; the right hand sinking beneath the left, I hold

myself under the ocean's current; letting the flow take me, and I see the ever

changing fields of blue ocean streams; exchanging fluids; with me

And that is when I knew there was no gift of resurrection; there was no life

Beyond that which we've known; only a present tense survival of the weary

eyed wanderers who call this earth their home; and as shadows rose, as angels

took me under and beneath the shore; I could not surface my skin

Locked in my insane surrender; locked within the confines of a plastic mind

Bent and deformed by its very nature; born as an isolated structure for abuse

and I have become a wrench in my redemption's gears; wholly and unordinarily

confused; about what the future may bring; comparative escalation

Of the difference of my sins.

Our sacred patterns; pressed between pages, our sacred bodies; pressed against

each other as we consume the light that was our violent selves; pressing pages

down around the ground we called our holy temple; and in its midst, we cry

Against the gods; we make an idol to a new found recipe for death

And as we hold each other close, we braise our bodies and bruise ourselves

denying ecstasy's involvement in our pain; shattering substance that could

cause our self-containment; and though I feel a harmony about this place

It doesn't offer anything out of the ordinary; it is a disembodied

Pleasure house; a familiarity of form that I can't consciously resolve;

within the pointed lights of our restricted life, we must proceed to death

Resuscitate the inordinate remainders of our birth; disguise sustenance

As the imperialistic weight that it once held; and as I form the major role

of trumpeteer, within our sacred space; I hollow out the sanctuary and make

a joke of God; I call upon the ashes to remind me how things were

When the gods held sway within the minds of men; and children's hearts

Were purified through faith; I stack the seeds of our remaining skin,

carry in the host and our blessed drink; and we captivate our audience;

ourselves, the two of us the only remaining proof that God exists

And we partake in the sacrament; and we partake of each other's

flesh within the fire's burning edge, and the redundancy of truth.

Our long, extended state of sin; our passage through the other side; into dreams

where we embark upon a journey to see our ancestors in the depths of the unknown

origin of time; I wait, and write the passage of my obsession; your skin

Pale as the shallow flesh of death, your eyes deep black hollows

And as we set ourselves alight; with flame, for the consumption of ashes in the

night, to tame our spirits and our vows of self-reflection; I wash my hands of

you; remainder of my midnight sin, and recollect the reason I was born

To purify my ashes and cleanse my thoughts; to drive out the desire's edge

And burn myself with the toxic flame; could you have awakened in me this bitterness

of conformity, could you have dressed me up to stay my hand when the hollowness

of your eyes had let me in; and could you have left me longing for death

When the angels came down to devour my flesh; and eat what was left of bone and ash

What then, will you come to me in pieces; after death's end, to toil in my madness

and refuse to walk in the mystical garden with me; I'll wait, and I'll watch for

your recovery from youth's simple mindedness; You need to embrace the madness

The intoxication of a broken mind; and let the fury of your wasted heart

Grip you in your sleep; and in your bed, wake up and smell the blood spatter;

it is a simple fixture placed in the center of time's great galaxy; reduce

Your light and see the ocean's clarity; let it sweep you beneath the sea

When you have come to the moment of your death, I'll take your hand,

and we will walk together woven into iron bars; beneath the ocean's tide;

this is neither heaven nor hell; it is an everlasting rhythm of creation.

We'll open the windows, and let inside the breeze; our youth's resuscitation

and the ministry of cold contamination; our own contemporary score to give us

pause as we descend upon each other's flesh; going down against the cold

Wind as it crowns us with our blowing hair; freezing us within its sensual

Affair; I blow at the candle's flame, but not enough to extinguish; while you

cradle me, as a mother would her newborn; this whole surreal act of medical

caress; as you contain my soul, as you diminish the effects of my madness

Dark and lonely ends to a bad dream; your purpose and my salvation's means

The paramount extermination of our loneliness, as you fade from light's

containment and become a dark star; bleeding from the night's view among

the others; I want to wash you in a bath of my own blood

And seek redemption in your heart; you can contain my loneliness

So when we recall tonight, in some far and distant time and place; I'll

utter the words I've spoken here and now; and find little grace with words

contained in speech; it is the fire that blows, the holy flame

Our self-surrender to the replacement of our dreams; our denial

Of ecstasy, as it passes through us; and we diminish ourselves as we speak

of shadows and of flames, while curtailing all the innocence of synthesis

of dreams; it is a short night, and an honest fall from heaven's path

You'll dress like the goddess of heaven; and I'll dress like your wife

And exposed before the angels as they press in on us, we'll seize the throne

and carry out our stable hold on the night of demonic exultation.

Our closed circuit, and the mystery of our speech; as it breaks open, wide

beneath our bedsheets; and you take my life within your hands; as putty

bent and snapped apart; but never broken, as I take new forms within

Your hands; your melodious tones, spent sideways in constructive paths

I yield my song to you, as we make love; and I arise again, restricted

in how I should place my hands; as you take them in your own and place

them against your breasts, weathered hands waiting for their own

Purposeful memories of winter's grip; deny me everything but do not

Deny my soul its place; in God's resurrection of the dead; I should seek

shelter there; from the rains, that they may now sweep me away; as you

swept me away in your place among the stars; and I could shine here,

If only for a single moment; to be placed as an important confidant

To you, my love; take me where you need me and place my heart against

your side; where there's a light ; where there's desire to be satiated;

and in the storm that blows against us; we'll take part as angels

Rising up above ourselves, and placing down our fears and our regrets

And as the night consumes me; and the heat of passion withers to a slow

and steady flame; I feel my head and it feels something different from

this passion's tirade; I feel lost, and abandoned; and without hope

Insanity has struck a chord deep within; my chaos is consuming me,

And without this passion's song; with the dissonant shadows that lie

beneath me; all is frozen, all is darkened schism; and to the angels

that lie in the depths of the mind; there is a hopelessness and fury

They are the demons that await me; they are death, they are consumption.

Our dysfunctional synthesis of change, wrapped in plastic; written on with

the score of an angel's last dance; psychotropic substances devoured with

the mutual understanding that as we flee our bondage of containment;

Within sanity's array of voice; we will discover new realities unmarked

And unchallenged; To you I bless this bread and wine; face ourselves in

the mirror of space and time; consume all that we desire; for it is our

place within this life ; raise up your glass, and take it in slowly

The face that you show is mine; and you are my reflection in the wind

Please be gentle with me, I am an only child; please touch me gently

with your hands; caress me in the darkest reaches of the night, and as

we come within the containment of our sins; bless my body

Within the throes of ecstasy; bless my body, and capture my confession

And as we stay the hour past the dawn; within my room, and find ourselves

naked and exposed to the sun breaking through the window; and as I look

upon your form, your perfect breasts; I see myself in you

And I am the hour of your corruption; the skin has folded in and torn

We wash our feet with each other's goodbye kiss, and pray to the goddess

of the sea; to take us in now, to shed a foamy breath of sud and spray

Against our sinful eyes; that we may see, as we walk again tomorrow in the

Moonlit night; and surface to redeem our bodies against the storm

that holds us under the surface of our faith.

Our closed rebellion, set in stone and ashes; encircled by the flames of youth's

revival; one more stiff and naked fool to be our sacrifice; the beatings of an

echo of the heart keep us young, as we escape through fantasies our demons

Of the dark; and sooth our eyes, and play the role of magistrate

Consuming flesh as if it were the bread of sacrament; our holy offering to God

so let us worry as we are of what will become of us; when fate turns over and

bares its awful teeth; we've come this far, without scraping death's shadow

And the bitter eye weeps; and the wanting child doesn't sleep when sleep is near her

Our canticle in the darkness; as we weep, I cry with the pain of torment,

cutting open my old wounds and letting the blood flow easy, while you watch,

while you spread the lies of your disheartened eyes; as they wash over me

I want you to pick me up; and take me as I am, without thought of change

Dress me as your goddess; and let my body be the key to your patience;

clothe me, and let me be a minister to your hunger; thirst for my blood

As it changes the way you think, skim the top, and drink your fill

When all has transpired; and all the winds have run their course,

we'll fall upon each other; and devour the remains of ecstasy.

Your scent; sprayed into my memory, without complete control I feel like I'm high

and you are at the base of my longing; prolonged violence of the heart, it stills

my voice and makes the limbs grow numb; and everything collapses beneath my weight

And I am falling in love; without a hint of despair except your dulled rhythm

Which beats without my need to move a muscle; I can hear the soft wind within you

echo; and I cannot contain the words you've sounded, deep within your cavity;

And I hold onto life's binding ties; despite my longing to let go

Even so, I cut loose the chains for a momentary glimpse of blissful existence;

I rock myself to sleep within the cold press of a blade against my wrists,

and let the pain wash over me; and let the high rush into me

Without your words rushing through my veins, without the chaos of life

Shattering my dreams and aspirations; I hold onto nothing, here within this

ecstasy of existence; blood rushing out of me; I feel the caves surrounding

me as though they weren't walls at all; and I am free from the chains

Of everlasting destruction of the soul; Let God keep his blade;

I have my own.

Lies, and the end of my deceitful day; to narrowly escape the truth, and have to

leave its sentence half-complete; with blissful hour when all has been forgiven

without a full disclosure of the facts, special eyes; somewhat taken for granted

I purposefully feel and think this great institution is a likely place to lie

From the banister; and from the cotton snow, the cold triumphant in the winter's

breath, she shakes the shallow parts of me and makes me hang on to dreams; becoming

warm, becoming the last sentence of the night's ill begotten textual advance

I stray in boxes; I stray in boxes; I cannot keep the sadist out of me

Blessed wine, and holy fruits of the field and mountain; and of the garden where

we dine tonight; with Eve and The Serpent; I wish to say more of my repentance;

to calm the winds from our undiscovered purge of sinful energy, but I succeed

Only in bringing thoughts to my own house; and into my head; the dissonant laughter

and lies I've already said ; to someone or to something, I don't know which or for

why, Do you believe in fairy tales; and the dark price; and the canticle of peace

I can imagine a small place, built within the stars' direction; which brings

A semblance of perfection to the ones who share its beauty and its place beyond

the sea; and I would come, and I would float upon the waters just to see its

brilliantly lit night sky; but there are gods and there are gods; and neither

Have decided to love me.

Beyond the layers of dust trapped within the mind; I find you walking next to me

exploring deeper secrets of my youth; and as we stroll along, I show you everything

there was beyond conception; the time left waiting in my mother's womb

The holy hours when I was young, and taking in the salt water

Its taste rolling off the tongue; I bathed within the ocean, and let a mark with

my foot; lasting now forever in the caverns of my memory's construction; I bled

and I laughed but what I didn't do was love; love eluded me

And even now, I find it difficult to open up and see the beauty of everything

So when I say the words; do not be disheartened; as I grow older yet, and see the

world through spacious eyes; there is a new birth coming and I will pierce the

life of this old memory, and make myself a new imprint among the sands of time

Drawing slowly in my breath, I come absolutely into my sickened pose

Drowning out the flames, I scar myself a little more; and bless this blade with

blood and sweat and flame; what's left is to reduce the pain you've promised me

Little white lies, dressed in silken skirts; remembered for a fortnight

Remembered for the whole of the night; in the darkness of a purse, pulled tightly

and in my grip; and in the shadows' pulse I fade away into the black ; and I seek

a bit of ecstasy, but it only lasts a minute's worth and then is drowned out

By the night; drowned out by the washing of the tide; and I see death's divide.

The servitude of secrets, as they change the pathways of forgotten time; lasting

impressions marked down on paper, it is the pen and the surreal anticipation of our

longings; I cannot steep my tears within this bath of blood; I cannot

Fuse my transgressions into serene discretions, and surmise the direction

Of my hollow self, if I could drown myself in the pools of my sorrow; and leave

this world behind; I don't know if I would, but I find a chance that tomorrow

may just be something similar than that of today; so why scratch the eyes out

Why complain; when something better may be miles away from here; let the

Dithered surface of the heart to pulsate, and while we wait out our existence,

let us purge the incompetence of youth; I wish to fold in upon myself, to

let the waves of hearing pass; beyond the depths of my consciousness

And when tomorrow shies away from me; when the cold cruelty of forgotten spaces

No one's answer in the shadows of the mind can offer up any kind of solution,

perhaps none exists; to tear one's flesh for pain is not enough; there must me

other means of trying to escape, I wish the night would pass; and throw me

Into the light of a systematic world; where sense made ordinary all complaints

So fear and shadows of a doubt linger on the tongue; and so, my love there's little

we can do to place ourselves in the transparent sea; we wash and we corrupt our

innocence, as we lie naked and exposed for the future of our dissonant remains.

With the remains of my mind still lost in an impure fantasy; I take my pills

and drift off into sleep; it is the cessation of the mind that accompanies

my slow surrender into dreams; and as they sweep the shallows of my

Consciousness; I play with fire, in ways that burn the flesh

In the conclusion's resolution; there is no mark upon my skin save those I've

made in the past; when I was lonely and afraid; and anxiety had taken its

toll, when I carved your name into my skin; and grew a heart of sin

To place the shadows deep within the marks; and destroy what little had

Been left of innocence; this cluster of reality's containment, set in gold

plates; and printed with the markings of the mind's edge; I bleed again

this time with the construction of real blood; setting the nerves on fire

And through this golden case of words, I sketch a picture of my sins

Too beautiful for entertainment; and too hideous for the meaning in the arts,

construed with black hymnals and the remnants of my past; a little less than

ordinary; this is for the consumption of God; to carry on my life within

The boundaries of self-harm; I show it to no one, but the marks continue

Real love, is what it means to draw deep blood; and leave nothing left for

taking; to scratch out skin and leave nothing left of flesh but broken mass

Into the shadows of a fall; autumn's desirous plane; I leave my mark.

Where, in the deep recess of thought; will you travel, and to where

will we drive ourselves deep within the mire; our blood pools

and within the heart there is a rhythm that contains us; where

Will you take me, little girl; to what receding place shall I be

Plunged; what passions will I observe, the salient sponge collects

a drop of your infinity; and as the sweet liquid rolls about the tongue,

I try hard not to become too attached; and let you feel my breath

My toxic flame, which unravels and regains a thread of consciousness

at your disposal; I want to open up the resistant minds; and let

Flow between us ; the beauty of the words as they consume our selves

Weak now, forever holding onto the resemblance of the flesh; frozen in

static, she drowns me in her wake; but could you rescue what is burned

And come to ashes; still I leave you with my one request: be gentle.

Together, in this silent film; black & white wedding; rolling cameras

and transposed music playing in the back of the theatre; your oscillations

of transparent song roll restlessly off the tongue; and you are closed

From the doors to the outside; we'll stay in here a while, and let the

world continue in its course; without our interruption.

The pleasures you walk; within your innocent eyes, the pains we take to keep

you shut inside; and as we skim the surface of your mostly untainted mind;

we keep our secrets to ourselves, and shun the breach of innocence;

Unless it is us; violating you for the sustenance of sin

Remain as you are; unbroken, and let the cattle graze upon your field of vision;

let the night resume its haunting of your mind; and place in yourself a reason

to continue on; without diminished grace, without the pains of youth's

Forensic fears; a development of isolation and your skin taut against bone

And I will rise up to swallow you, in the night; I'll take my pleasure at your

pain, and writhe in ecstasy as you transgress; the night is young as you,

so let this be a lesson to your incompatible denial of yourself

Rest a while, and teach yourself the secrets of subdual; of sin

While I rest in difficult remainder of my own; I'll lie in a bed of my own design,

and invite you in; we'll take the fruit from the nightstand, and devour its flesh

And we'll devour each other's flesh throughout the night; purging ourselves

Of passion; and of pain, we'll drink the sacred cup; and stain our bed with its

red liquid; and as we draw into the morning, and as we say the words to our salvation

Fear has no more meaning here; and the night has passed us by; and we're unbroken.

Do you hear that crashing of the waves; and the raising of the tide again;

to beat against these sands; to wipe away our marks, I hear the echo fading

And the winds devour all our space within their silent whisper

You crave as much as I do; for the feelings of the flesh; the high of the

surrounding compass as it marks the north and the south; our blessings lie

In strangers, and our survival comes in patience with the winds

Blow the leaves, and watch the hidden magic of your breath consume the trees;

take out your compass, and mark the motion of the wind; as it comes and as it

goes; its direction; and what is your direction in this world;

What choices will you make when time commands it; what places will you travel

Let loose and fly, and I will stand beside you, watching as you float upon

the wind; and let's make a sacrifice to the gods of the sky; here and now.

The sugar cube and the bottle of red wine;

Our deviant devices stretched to breaking, my mind is stretched to breaking;

and all the world is stretched; and there will be a shattering of pieces

In the end;

Flesh comes in waves of ecstasy, and my desire perks up at thoughts of you;

I wash myself clean in a bed of pain; and roll myself over, tossing and

turning with the sting of my execution in my veins

The poison pills; within my blood, contain a still silent hush

And your amusement as I shatter pieces of myself against the wall; and our

hush, in unison; as I pick them up and slit my wrists

Don't be shy; the reason for my weakness is your eyes; dark and handsome

I remain a part with my intoxicating plunge into the sea; I dress myself

sullenly and remain the bride; becoming anxious as the wedding yet approaches;

I take inside me a child, when the time comes; and I wait for it to mature

Birthing to the rhythm of the sea, estranged and secluded in isolation

Your eyes, looking elsewhere; your skin as soft as the midnight breeze; you

take me between the sheets again; and purge away what's left of innocence,

Even while I post my heart within an envelope addressed to someone else

You cradle me, and keep me warm; you beg the question of who I would aspire to;

and in my wildest fantasies, I conjure up a stormy sea; goddess of the night;

the dark queen, I would give my life over to her; for a moment's breath to see

Within her eyes.

Her lush lashes; and the sky beneath her skin feel so soft, her pretty eyes

and chaste lips, for lack of having anyone to kiss, and her angelic smile;

Brought on by the remembrance of our stain; your sin and mine, wrapped

In plastic and nearly forgotten; but the smell made its way into our lungs,

and we arrived at a feeling of loss and in denial; the pieces beneath us,

of our bodies shattered in the great divide; come the conqueror

Come the king; dressed in pretty robes and poignant perfumes

Washed out rhythms in the sun; come bleeding into our resistant edges;

and of the fornicator's pursuit; little remains left of love , little

remains of the toxic air of death; what perfumes our souls is

The serenity of something to hold onto; and death's edge and love's

Requiem take part as prisons; place your arm inside my arm, and

together; past this rising before the fall; consumption of our dreams

and as the words fall into place among the fallen leaves

We make a mark upon the ground, and in the sky; we edge our troubles

Away, and push them to their limitless end; we take stock against the

pain as it recedes and as we complain; to the edge of everything we push

And into the hollowness of our selves, we break free and enter.

Time slows as midnight approaches, and the restless fears I've held within no longer are exposed

but easy madness, and youth's brash burns caress my skull, and I can't contain this much longer;

the innocence of a shaved face and a pure and untouched body; I crave the cradling of youth

Stretched out beneath me on a bed; the summer storm in full bloom

As we lie naked, entwined within each other's posing flesh; consumed by the seasonal storm;

its rhythm is our own unbridled lust, and famine begets a hungry generation; consumed with

consumption; I need to feed upon your skin, I need to taste the essence of our sins

A perfect mess of flesh and blood, discovered in the pains of isolation's thickened hollow

And blood burns, against the will of the gods; heaven has exorcised our demons yet our demons

come to feast again upon the mind; and as we crawl through the pages, seeking solace,

seeking a pleasant demeanor to ease the passage of our pain; lies suffer freedom's bell

To toll, within the confines of an unwritten script; the whole of which will be our end

And as our fury and our rhythm subdue the outcome; we lie in sweet blissful surrender to our

passion's substance; in the throes of ecstasy, within each other; as we bless our hollow eyes

With water synthesized by passion's lovely flame; requesting of each other a small mark

of our bondage; a token of our affection; to name the resurrection of our ill begotten fame.

With an intense prolonging of our pain, as we wash each other pure of sin;

the evening still remains young yet in the eyes of the gods; and as I see you

lying naked before me; as I see your body exposed before the elements; I crave

To hold you in my naked arms; to feel the touch of skin against skin

And feel your warmth burning through my blood; when two divided bodies clash,

and the blood flows; and the muscles spasm, And your violent revolution of

the flesh's divide, piercing me and my arms extended wide

Taking in the bath of the divine heavens; my heart extended wide

Taking in the bath of your divine flesh; and what remains of purity is dissolved;

in accordance with the truths of God; and as we make our claim, and call the

prophets down; to reminisce against our failures as husband and wife

The seed torments me; and breaks the call of my surrender, the stem snaps

And what was whole of beauty and innocence are torn off; frozen flakes of

grass shudder in the grips of the wind; and as I'm wanting, and as desire

Closes in against my soul; I reap the flesh's degenerate produce, and break

free from my anticipation's glass jar; I want for nothing as I hold you

Closely hold you, under and beneath my wilting arms.

We donate fleck of glass to the unconsecrated of our youth; as we dine on

fire; birthed in an atmosphere of lust, as we parade naked before our God;

and take in the fantasy of a lover's conception

It all made sense, in the end; and as we traveled this little ounce of time

The feelings migrated, through pain; and as a disease we woke up feeling sick;

it is the plain, unswerving truth of the odyssey; dressed up in fine ribbons

ready for her birth; and as we won the text to our reception's desk

As we filled it in with the words of our conception; we polished them in

Bronze fiber; and coated them with gold, an indiscrete procession of time;

lost rhythms in a cataclysm of shunted vines; birthing oil and wine

So, time to drink and be consecrated with the holy oil; to spread our legs

And let the lover's liquids flow; freely through the lush night air

surrounding us in sleep; to dream perchance to find a draft of ecstasy;

And as our birthed words take root within; we film ourselves in the

promiscuous poses of our God's conception; holy order maintained through

enough wine to intoxicate the mind;; and as we say our prayers; we drink

Enough to make our minds more clear for seeing the eyes of God.

The trinity of God's succession; as I grow tired and hurt from your deceitful

laughter, and the seed within me grows; I contemplate our efforts as having had

ill effects on me; and on the spreading decisions for this birth;

Times are perfect remedies to laughter; despite its simple face

And time rejects my destiny; and hold hands with the perfect little hands I've

woven into human being; and as we arrive at our final destination; you'll see

time interrupted, as the clock winds down; and you'll see flames, and you'll

See fire burning up the hopelessly romantics; and the sick; and the dead

Our arms transpose the beauty of our lungs; as we rock backwards and forwards

through the interim, and speed the light's last blessing against our own

indecisions; as we wait; and as we watch the world profusely bleeding,

Another game for purchase among the stars; another wasted sentiment

Four more revealing stars and I will see enough of light to leave my mark

placed across your back within the moonlight; four more and I will dance

The cursed dance which gathers in the remainder of our sins;

One more moment is enough, then we can speak of angels in the darkness;

of demons as they roam the ancient hills; I see them coming, and I confess

My duty; and I confess my love's final regret.

Our grace, as I remembered it from so long ago; was given to us, not taken as a thief

against the house; and in my face is the sullen expression of a life at its end;

with the curiosity of what's been granted as I go; will faith amend my life's

Transgressions; will it piece together the shards of my remains;

An emptiness of heart, and the bitter bruises of a flame's shadow; concealed against

the exposure in the night; forced bits of emptiness; drawn thinly across the spine

As a shield from my corruption, there is pain; and there is the loneliness of

Exorcised demons, fleeing my body and no longer haunting my visions of the night;

no more exposure yet still an air of loneliness drips down my skin; like water

There's too much abandonment here; too much sorrow, and youth's skin collapses

Into fear of the unknown, and into more anguish; a sentence to be carried out by death;

only in our eyes can we see such pain, only can the mind pursue such a degree of

emptiness; and only the light of a false hope can bring us through it;

So I will hope for love; and all its beauty, I will dream of you tonight;

And when the shadows come to claim me in my sleep; I'll hold the candle up high,

against the clouds; and remember your face; there among the ashes of the fallen;

and whisper your name, slowly on a windless night.

The dithering; and the toil against your blood, rushing through me; and

the sweat as it stains my clothes, and drains my words from my head;

slow speech with truthful tones, and a rhythm of self-denial in its pace

You hadn't crossed me; but as you were, you'd lost me an hor or two ago

And swim , and in the restful sea ; an island made for sitting and being

free, as the waves roll high ; sometimes, to the threat of our destruction;

But you and me, we've waited so long for the tide rolling, and for the sea's

Storm to brew; that this last ounce of fog and teardrops coming down;

is more than the season might produce; it's more than you and I could have

expected to, so simmer in the sea's bright light and calm yourself;

Your pace; your longitude and your self-constructive goals; your face

Deathly crying out the night in fits of fear of the unknown, and your rage

and mine; as we collect the waters of ancient times; and drink them whole,

without regret and without pain; with with the indirect understanding that

We have failed some final test and become gods; before our bodies could

Sustain us; And no swift hand; no touch upon the minds of men; no host

no miracles; only a youthful charm and my indifference to pain; only the

Gaping hole within my heart, and the ladder leading down;

Only DEATH; and all its deconstructive, piercing blows; against my head

and against my heart; against the dreams I have collected from long ago.

Run away; while sex and drugs and faith belong to the dark side of the moon;

run away, and feel the need for purity; and place your hand in mine as we begin

to usher in the cavity of our conception; this graven hole, dug for time's

Exposure in the sun; run away, and feel the wind against your face

While time moves slow enough for our momentum to break through; run away,

I'll be there biting; I'll be there clawing out the eyes of what is truth;

Severing the spires from their base; I'll call on the angels' flame

And tread lightly; and bring a supper for one, for you to eat; I won't be

hungry except for the hunger of the flesh; I'll wreath your lips with a single

kiss and extend my hand; against the wind, against the severity of God's

Laws; written down in simplified speech; to trust our faith, to trust

In our redemption's coil; honor is spited; and the glory of His coming

is written on my hands in blood; so let us take our cup and drink

To be drunk; let's revel in a bath of ecstasy and find the flames

Hot enough to touch our soul; And ride the cool waters between us; and writhe

in our bodies warm touch; another placid sentence; transposed between our

breasts, this one of the son of God; undressed and keeping company

With us; between the shadows of the greyish night; his light between our

bodies and the severity of speech against his tongue; as we writhe in our

bathwater; and bruise our innocence like a beaten; hollow drum.

With thanks and a gleeful smile; I break away from your distasteful skin;

as long as you had held me up; I could smell the corruption from within,

And thought there's a plane for all the miserable ones; there's a place

To put us; in the graves of the forgotten, without our souls; place for

me an angel on my tombstone; and run the course of words that I have

patterned; for an epitaph; and seize a small fracture of the night;

To hold me under; and once I've fled, once I've made calamity's bubble

burst; and tread on the toes of God; and in this hollow place I walk,

there isn't gods to hear me anymore; there's just the rolling of the

Midnight thunder; passing through to the east; another wave of shock

And I find my work complete; I've found you here, stretched out like

glass blown thin; and as I stroke your molten form, you awaken

From the slumber holding you under, and the spell of a man too

Old and too weary; and too wise, not to be a god; And as you wake,

and wash your face in oil; and as you contemplate the wishes of the

world upon you; I'd never seen your eyes so deeply colored;

Deep blue; like the ocean, a serene prescription; like the sea.

Lost within the corridors of construction; what life is this, when

fantasy has purged all meaning from the words of my belonging; what

world is this, where dreams collide with visions of darkness

Which bleed into my pool, and taint my thoughts with suicide

Every angle, every dazed reconstructive thought is left undone;

and the remnants of a dragon's gem; shattered and compromised,

The life I thought I'd had a hold over to some extent; bleeds

And as I get lost in the rhythms of the night, it's far from home

where I lay down to bed; it isn't far from a realized truth;

it comes on in waves and lingers on the tip of the tongue;

It is a blood bath, and I am the appointed one for sacrifice

Truly in this deep white moon, there lies some comfort in my choices

and in my indecisions; the longings that have left me powerless to

choose my path; my desire's cold fate; and the purchase it has made

Wake me up from my sleep; and pull me under beneath you

As if to dream, perchance to make amends we not the only shade of life;

but we'll pretend it is enough for the makings of our unrestrictive

sounds, we'll program the angels with our song and speak our farewell.

With our collision; and with our midnight stares into the dark beyond;

I will capture your picture beneath the moonlight; and I will keep it

in my pocket; to look at for all the times we haven't met,

Seeking closure and forgetting your face; it won't be easy

To run away, and not look back; and so I'll find you there; when thoughts

run dim and drink dilutes the passage of the mind; transference becomes

a slighted hand; and drunkeness my savior in my bed; come close and touch

The hem; touch between my thighs, and let the resoluteness of my fantasy

Push against reality's embrace; who wants to feel alone as I do; and who

wants a seizure for a friend; my only love a bottle of dark whiskey;

And as I come into the folds of God; as I enter into pacts with Satan

And as religion becomes a field to turn to when all of my dreams have

dissolved; into the waters of desire, when rolling hills and even creeks

give passage to the goddess of the night; come close to me, and tell me

All the secrets lying between your teeth; drift with me in memory's

Erasure; and as the moment comes for us to screw the hinges on; and as

our memory transpires into waste, we'll focus on the green light's glow

From morning as the sun hits the fields; and we'll measure ourselves

Against the pain of the setting sun; as it withers into darkness.

The world through your eyes, as it turns; and leaves a simple shade of grey

as the clock turns, and memory begins to fade; I walk the ocean's shore in

search of a capitalistic thread of truth; to the beauty that lies beyond

And what one could see as aesthetic form; therein lies a monetary advancement;

Cold brutality, as slaves are born; and feelings become corrupted in the flesh

with no new movements made; without the regression into a purity of cash flow;

Four eyes target the waters; one pair with the artistic bending of the waves,

Another pair upsets the balance; and behaves so as to set the flood on fire;

to empty the sea and leave the salt's residue as a resilient paradise; to

tantalize the tongue; and as I slip from my constructions; as I call to you

To wake me from my synthetic walk upon the water's edge, this brilliant bath

Take upon me the dissection of glass forms, and waiting waters to fill them;

we'll use calculus' spell, and bury ourselves in the medium of volume and

weight; reduction into spheres; and we'll transcend clear being;

Wait for me, at the ocean's end; and there we'll make our loving gesture

While the sand blows steady with the wind and the clouds; and the sun

pierces our flesh with its rays; come with me to this end; and we'll wait

slowly watching, for the resurrection of mankind.

In our case, within our drifting landscapes and serene ideals; where thunder

blossoms as the cold night diminishes into the threads of a summer storm;

and we collect the pain, and we drive out the demons of our youth

And bare ourselves, exposed to the midnight rain; as washed as we are

And perfectly made for the presence of God; tie me in restraints, and we'll

sing hymns to the future of the human race, and we'll lie in a bed of weeds;

remade with poison ivy for tonight's predisposed introduction

I've fled your sainted locks; And I have pieced together signal flares

What once was toxic fumes and self-proclaimed decision to make faith's

amends; with our own permutable substance for the remainder of our path;

To proclaim God, with blood; and with cinders, and the holy testament

Scripted in a frenzy on the floor; in blood; and with cinders, the sacred

words of long ago; transmuted through the focus of our decision trees,

And now it's time to flee; now it's time for me to take my run

For love's last escape bleeds now; and I could never hold on ,

run, little girl; in the pink dress; before Satan's horde comes

running after, and all that glitters turns a shade of death.

I come to my interruption, and the magnetic pull of night; as shadows sweep

and I can contain our death; and I can change the rhythm of the clouds, but

I can't bequeath this shadow onto you; I have confided too much of breath

There is a spell of my diminished anger pulsing through my veins

And as it fills the space within my mind; my cure is my deceit, and so I let

the pain of my delivery; this child's only raw concern, to deplete my frustration

and so she comes; this child's single fate, folded in a blanket

Too much of the sky weighs down on my decision; and too much of your hurtful

Words weigh down on me; too much of our vacant life has been purged, for me to

let you go so easily; and too much weight within our arms to stay committed;

And so we stray and we straddle the line, and so we walk to the side;

Encompassing fate's permutation of our life's tragic defeat; I walk inside

your eyes, and play the curious type; I divide your words with my mind,

And seize the slow arrest to our incision; your work, as it was scripted

by the minds of the gods; and my descriptive phrases, and my melodies,

conspiring to leave the pages blank; I see within you all the goodness you

Withhold; and dream that someday we'll walk; hand in hand, against the

bleeding rhythm of the urban tide.

Within my veins is the hidden magic of the ages; and I could touch you

with my slit wrists, and burn your imprint in my mind; come easy, pain

don't leave me here in the shallows of an empty womb

You purge me with your fists; in isolation I spend my days and nights

And tempered by the ashes we have spent on soulless gods; your mind is

but a phantom to my own; and I concede, and I curse the ground you walk

on, and I bleed my stain upon your pillow as you wait for the gods

To return from their bath in paradise; as they walk fitful steps

Against the surface of our contentment; and as we slip into our wreath

of desire, and walk among the angels as we stroke each other's flesh;

The tears of my body leave bruises on my hands, as I wipe them clean

And misery's defacement of ecstasy churns with the turning of the tides;

our mockery of faith, and our last production in the sins' restraint,

as we hold each other at arm's length; and produce no fruits of love

Here, in the castle of our rebirth; we stray against the tide

And the long night consumes our flesh as we delay the birth of Christ;

and through His suffering; we place a head of our own upon a still

and steady chapter of our transgressive work; and pray to our Heavenly

Father; the diminution of of lives be pleasure and a small amount of pain.

Flashes of the night sky have turned an isolated shade of fire; and as

we proceed through this flash flood of night's entire birth; where

stars are driven into the pit, and the moon bestows its grace on

An awkward child; born beneath a cursed sky, and into the dressing

Of the wind; with sheets, and curtains; blindly stuttering her name,

is it the face, painted grey that becomes her; or is it her eyes

blue and perfect like a modern painting of the sky, her ocean

Breathes; her mother breathes, as if the two were one; and we send

Her off to bed, without the christening; we wash her clothes without

conditioning; we smell in the air the burning of the night; and the

chasm's closure; one small reign of terror to transmute our blood

I miss your arms and hands pressed against my womb; I miss the feet

touching through; and I miss the coldness of the bath water, sifting

over me like the ocean's tide; all pieces of the night, all sorrow

glasses shattered by the midnight winds; and the rain cannot be

Contained within the folding of the form; nor can my child be

Contained without my holding her in; but my form has been reduced

to pain, and her leaking body bathed in blood remains broken,

We are at odds within each other's grasp; we are the spell of

longing without which there was no purchase against the holding

of the sands; time has reigned us in and spoken.

Our pages are flat and unresponsive to the sun; and as I hold my head within

my hands, and place adrift my thoughts; I come into the blue beyond the sky,

and sink myself slowly into your arms; where comfort lies and the treatise

Of our long, forgotten stand upon the sun; was held, and where our dance

With death's attire was given; Oh night! blessed and holy rhythms do you sing

when the solitude of our forgiveness fails, and destiny's quiet gaze falls;

upon our lifelessness; and we shake away the pain of our last memory,

Holding onto sin's corruptive glance; its tattered frame, in hopes

That we may see each other's face; before the long, dark shadow falls,

and to embrace each other's forms; lock lips and breathe each other's

long, dark secrets in; and we will not complain, and we will not draw

Out our seance into the depths of the end; we'll draw in our love's

Last question, as it falls between our thighs; and hurry up to quench

this last betrayal of our innocence; as we give in to lust's great

featured form and haunt our days left here; beneath the sun.

Where the night falls, and into my lap the blood of my disclosure; flames

sink into the skin, and the relaxation of my inebriation closes the door

to any chance of our disputed claim on sanity's resolve; come quiet

And come with pain; let the forceps turn, and let the bitter alchemy

Of your dispute with me; draw blood, and the sanctity of our union

carry on; inside of days, numbered for the beast; we'll pray and let

God's dithered judgments claim our souls; and beat out the rhythm

Of captured hearts in love; despite our long silence, and a worry

Reason has foretold this resolution to an end not yet set in stone;

and while the forceps play their role in my degrees of separation

from my sins; love's last blasphemy critiques my mind; and leaves

The scars of sanity; and blindness marked upon my flesh; upon my

Slit wrists; my mellow mood, my intoxicating summer; filled by the

howling of the wolves; in heat; in heat, beyond in the distance,

where we shall howl back in return, to make a merry mess of everything

So much poison; so many lies to bleed into the sun, as my gaze

Threatens to reduce our chill night to a bath of wasted drink; I cough

and the leftovers of my cup go undrunk; and we pour our souls into the

sink; and we pour each other down; beneath our feet; and sleep.

A night of toxic endeavors; to plead with God and break the body's will;

to seize peace through a storm of pain and the burning of desire, and to

walk with knives held tightly against my skin; to bury myself

In a fit of rage and demonic laughter; and to purge myself of sin

Holy are the devout; and I will make you see my innocence revoked through

your intoxicating skin; we'll peel the ashes from the fire as we make love

to the rhythms of our heartbeats; and drain the goblets clean of

Wine; our substance of abuse, our diabolic urge for the unclean spirits

Rest with me; in the chill laughter of our substance, as it permeates

our love with restlessness; and take pills from the cabinet, prescribed

for our undoing in this restrictive field of sin; we'll amplify our

Lust; we'll crave each other's heartbeat, and we'll collapse after

A night's long lasting bout of ecstasy and passion; as we proceed into

tomorrow's flames; the last end to our redemption, the end to our insanity

As it blooms, transparent scars like welts upon the flesh; bloom

And what we know, and what matters we've gained judgment on, perspire;

the knots of sanity's corruption bleed white; and as we go, we channel

all our intimacy against the sky; against God, as we proclaim our distance.

The polar opposite of me, you grow in stages while I come incomplete; and

soulless as a shadow, I sing of false hopes and dreams, the shattered fields

of glass and the burning stars; surrender to me as I walk within this

Insane sound; while I purchase for myself a grain of toxic cloud

And drain all hope from memory, and breathe in the dragon's word; that lonely

name; stripped of foreign flames; I work the silver linings of the clouds to

breathe and belittle faith's small seed, as if it were my child; as I wait

For the barrier to grief; to grow and loom upon the clouds as a foreign child

Struck by the enemy of fate, struck down; I hold open the quarantine gates;

so we may go, the distance of a mile before the end closes in; so we may see

the corruption of the flesh as it sets in; and so we may be pleased to know

Of all the animals of the earth; that winter has come to eat the flesh of man

Raise a steady hand, peel off the dirt; and scour what will you've left within,

I grow; my child grows within me as I plant the seeds of our destruction,

so much death, so little holding on to God's request for purity and innocence;

So much death; and the denial of the self, the remainder of sacrifice

Against the body's only purchase; it is the way of the world; to seek salvation

through a providence of faith, and so I slit my wrist in time with His word;

the holy arm extended; and as I go; and take on my existence with a mark,

Freedom from birth belongs to the will of the gods of mind and matter.

Within these dark confines; wherein I place my mind, what shadows

play; and what is the season of your calling; to placate the mind,

in your desirous deeds, to quench the thirsty need for love's affair

Carry on then, let the whimsy work its way; and let the children

Laugh beneath the shade of an old willow tree; with poisonous veins;

as they dance their dark collision with the devil, and drink their

mixture of poppy seeds and wine; the steady state of a twisted mind

I choose you, my muse; driven into dark despair; as a sentence

For my play; and as the surface bleeds, as the commute regains its

consciousness and blood runs thin; taking with it the travels of

our youth, in fiery passion is birthed a still and hopeless star

What godless thing still whispers in the night; what empty visions

Take me into the recluse wanting of another's arms; the venom

and the cage; as it collapses, my mind issues a shuttering of speech,

and blood runs down my chin; and onto my lap, it's time to eat

Sayeth the Lord: thou shalt not covet any other woman than her

And as my head turns, and as the staples press into skin, as she

lays hold over me; and I whisper her a steady stream of toxic blood,

we seep into the canticles of faith; and prey on one another's fears

And an echo presses through; the echo of her eyes.

And when the bird comes through; with feathers tattered and wings

torn up from the fight, and when the silence is ushered in to say

a long goodnight; and when I call you on the telephone to say

White lies, covered up with honey and milk; this is God's

Deliverance, come clean; washed silk garments purged of all the filth

of humanity's stain, the devil is in the details of this all-encompassing

array of filthy lies and sediment contained in the poor boy's shadow

To the army of the innocent; and to their graves, they bleed and they

purchase more than a little bit of pain; dressed in the stars of their

birthright; they retain little of the significance of their parents' luster

Sleep now, in the shadows of your mother's birth; and hold on to your

Thin and innocent smile; as the wolves play in the yard; with your doll

in flames, pursing their lips as they pull; and they tug, redemption's

virtues hidden in the shadows of this night's contemporary song

While wild and lush fantasies draw in your breath, and keep you sane

While in me, they frighten away the birds and let the demons sing me

lullabies to terrible for repeating; lust-filled fantasies of the birth

of the anti-christ falling through my cavity; in small beacons of pain

Roll me a cigarette; and let us wipe up the mess of this birthed demon.

She pours her envious thoughts down into my throat; into my corridor,

and I complain; it isn't enough to know her madness, and I refuse the

task of holding onto her sweetened sins; the bite of her corruption

And I take a measure of her liquid, and keep it secretly away

Tasting it in the raw hours of the night, when no one's looking; I crave

her passion and her fury and spew out the bitterness of her impurities;

What raw stench arises from the bottom of the well, what madness

Corrupts the waters; and what simplified containment is set out for the

feast; to be transposed, in sleep; into her future form, with all her

secrets bleeding into me; I am awash with the need for ironing my dress

The simple stains of bed rest; the bleeding out from my knuckles

Where I had punched the door; in hopes of my escaping sometime; like

a thief; to stem and to stay the night in bed; to sleep as she does,

Liquidly alone in droplets of her own transgressive sins

All awake, at night; I find myself shouting wholly at the moon, to pass

time while I await my eternal suffering; hell can wait an hour while I

dress the grass with fire; and make myself to be the chosen one;

One last call for bed, but I await my sentence in the darkness and the

dreadfulness of the night's transparent eyes.

Before the entrance, before the show I place my head between your hands

and let go; because everything is chaos, and the world's on fire the

buzzing in my head and through my body makes me want to dance;

And if there's anything I'm after with this business in the shadows

Of my life, I'd like to take out the tradition and replace it with a

transfusion of contemporary insanity; blown up big and scarred across

the arms with bright white gloves ; An open sore, just big enough

To ease the emotional scars; to keep the heart and the head away

And as we pass through demeaning reconstructions of my hour; as we

pass through dithered and homogenized structures for my stay,

The sky could have opened up and placed a turn key in my palm;

or some other remarkable aesthetic value of change; persistent

dreams held out in the heart's enclosure, do they ever come true;

Well not today, little girl; you are a whore for the act, get up

And endure the loneliness of our exact reconstruction; same like

every other time; just take your place and do your part, we'll

extract what little is left of your soul; carry on then, miss

Madame; stray too much, and there is bleeding of the skin

Stray too much and there is a death pain of the flesh, and in this secret

hymnal of the gods; today, there is a death pain lingering on the

corner of my mind; it is my own death, written in a poem on a page.

I clung to you; like these words upon a page, these little letters all arranged

so they may tell some violent story of our dissection; for when we parted lips,

and we arranged our bodies against the opposite edges of the wall

You broke me into shards; and where the pieces fell, nobody came to collect

My heart beats violent patterns as the dusk falls, and the night holds onto

the rhythms of my withered form; these remnants of our diluted love, growing

colder as the midnight comes; and into our remaining days we bleed

Your love was from the beginning; an open wound, and mine a closed reunion

Letting in only the words of your simplistic stain; I've coveted and collected

all your tokens of affection, and placed them upon the sill; for when it's

night, and the wind blows steady streams; i comforts me to see the curtain

Reveal, piece by piece the story of our love; and when these broken bits

Are shattered on the floor, one by one; I know it's time to move on, time

to take in the whole of our matters and bring them to an end; and here we are;

espousing the end of our innocent affair; relentlessly purging our love

Throughout the night, as we come to close off the violence that had held us

No more likenesses of God to shelter us in our home; no more pictures of the

angels, watching the holy mother give birth; no more religion and no more

Lasting love; it is the sock which doesn't fit, it is enough to know we've

left each other hanging by a thread until the ending of our short-lived affair.

When I drink the stars within my cupped eyes; and languish at the softly spoken

dirt which fills my lungs; Do you recognize me, while I'm wading in the pool;

and wanting for an innocent smile to wander back my way; or do I breathe

Heavy and wait for the dragon's pulse to rock my body awake and wreak havoc

These heavy arms that lift you up to the sky, and undress you from your skirts;

these famished lips, who need a thousand kisses to set aright; their broken

skin and deep within these sunken eyes; spins the drought of children's memory

Too much of a painful rite to split into the night's sky, for fear of tearing

And when the fabric tears, I watch my weight as one who'd had obsessive sins,

too drunk to fly away and too much adolescence's fright to want to stay

In my years; beneath the cloak of simmering consciousness; there was a grain

Of envy in my eyes; and I doubted I would ever come to being as I am now;

I've purged my promises to faith and left my coffin bare, with malcontempt,

I've stretched thin my goals and taken in the longest night as my reflection

Bursts into a fit of tears; there's too much strain against my heart to win

And every moment becomes unrest, and every languid call ceases to caress

what is left between the sentiment and the stain of our forgiveness;

Each echo is a laughter I retained since birth, and each blasphemy regains

A measure of my self-control.

Your door, across the borders of our sanity lies the open door; to touch

and reach beyond and through, into the devil's realm; I stand committed

and I eschew any meanings of my words; and I fumble through our secrecy

To light the candle of our dissonant pathway, to board the compass

And drive against the pleasures of our days, I drip wet silences down through

these airy pipes; and drink the water as it comes, and feed myself upon

a distant night's howling, when the air is clean and pure; I drink the rain

As it comes flooding down; and through wet footprints, I surmise a chemical

Enclosure of ourselves; as wrapped in substance and in passage through our

field of vision, there is too much entanglement to cure our eyes; even after

The sun goes down, and all the plants sleep; and all the dreamers close their

eyes, and sing within the boundaries of the night; their final hush; before

morning claims their soul; I read the passages of your hand, I skimmed your

Pages, and found them somewhat lacking; I dreamed the resemblance of our skin

As it pertains to beauty; and through a simple stint in time, I recognized

your fortune; and brought closed this insipid return, I gave you night's last

reaching fire, to turn your face and swallow all your pains; to drive out

The demonic and the corpse; one and the same, they draw us in and seize

the fortunes that have been implanted within our disguise.

We lost the return you sent; and I could only notice the lack of luster in your eyes,

and as my heart sank into the pool of my denial; teeth grated against the metal bars;

and tore my mind; your gifted song, dressing the permutations of my thoughts

What blasphemy arises at our silly mistakes; and what the stars provide to ease

Us, as we march along in file; these summer stars, alight with longing and lust, and

an air of misfortune; to cradle us, bare against the relief of the sky; I want to

sever this connection before it scrapes too hard against my cheek, and forms a blister

But what good is corruption of a youth; if not to give pleasure to the demons of the night

I walk you home, and say a simple prayer with you; to unknown gods; and place in

your perfectly formed hands a scepter; and you will rule the shattered pieces of the

night; those demons that call upon you when the weather clears; and you will draw

Them in, and gather their remains; and we will sin against the gods

And we will sin against each other; when all that remains is a token of our love,

we'll stray completely from the bondage of our ancestors; as we pray to this new

Derisive force of nature, and form the surroundings of a sepulchre;

Draw me into you, like water; like blood, and we shall stain the pages of our history;

with grasping arms, too faint to touch each other's lives; with steady hands too shallow

To draw each other's blood, and we'll persist into the depths of consciousness

Where we will reach the awning, and place each other high up on the top of this foreboding

structure; and we'll cast stones into the pool; giving each other open arms to play the fool

We'll find a grip that lasts; and soak up the demons from each other's lives.

The depths of our arousal; and how we cling to the passage of life, its

ever-changing substance as we purge ourselves of lies and twist the truth

around; to bear a semblance of our song; and so it goes, the utterance

Of faith, the profound execution of our denied symbolic space;

As we regain a steady hand to turn about our fate; we lie unhinged and

broken, because the edges of our youth are stained with the intensity

of adulthood; and the cravings of our stinted lives grow fond

Of sin; I couldn't hold back from your hands; this perfect stain

And irrational thought, the droppings of the muse resounded against

the pane of glass but wouldn't shatter its substance; and so I'm left

In a denied form of ecstasy, too much to contain my abandon; but too little

For letting go of the pieces; we raise our glasses to the night sky,

and drink ourselves to the edge of drunkeness; as we proclaim the coming

of the Lord; and our savior can complete the patterns of our iniquity

While we lie in a bed; drained of life, and unspoken realities;

We shelter ourselves from our feelings as we purge the remainder of our sin;

as we deny the substance of the gods; and as we wait in sleep and dream

Of purgatory's likeness; I slip into the knots within your hair,

And I raise my cup again, against the righteousness of doing so;

and I sink my mind between your breasts, and let myself be sheltered there.

The seizure of the heart, and the complete lack of any vicious bite

to grate at the nerves; to keep the mind sterilized, I watch your hands

slowly stretching out against your chin; the movement lingers in its pose

And everything I do, to keep my mind aligned with yours; your presence

And your conception within my mind's dissonant resolve; I want to bite

your inner organs and make you bleed, not the bite of the flesh; but of

your heart, and I can see with my eyes there is a fascination growing;

A slow conception of love, and it lingers like a soft ice, melting

The drips of it contain the purest poison; and I want to share with you

the fruits of the night's passion; lengthen into this bath, between our

naked bodies and let the waters rise; and as we sink, slowly into sin's

Accompaniment, we will exchange our bodies' fluids; and drench ourselves

In love's affair, we'll walk along the beach; sunburned and sickened,

with our eyes piercing each other's, and our remains dripping fire;

Too long, walking in the shadows of a broken heart, too long beating

for recovery; I want to wash it clean in the revolver's grip

And let the gun's weight carry me into the drift of the tide.

We deserve this corruption of our skin, and while the tide is high and

yearnings of the heart have gone unchecked; I want to silence the night

with laughter made from silken thread; transparent to the eyes;

And we will sing our long farewells, until we meet again in the morning

And as death rises through my veins, and the thickness of your form

enraptures me; I hold your imperfect hands up to the light, inspecting

every flaw I find, yet finding none enough for criticism; except

For the blood's consistent flow; you haven't practiced long enough

To make my mood grow wild, there is a charge in knowing you are using

them; and as I sink between worlds; I find myself fantasizing at length;

A mental masturbation; of sorts, projecting onto you and in your

Light pajamas, sinking into the comfort of your chair; pushing down

your leggings and drifting off into a sea of self-collected ecstasy,

And the charm around your neck; how it touches you, I feel myself

Touching you; like a bracelet wrapped in gold, my hands touching yours;

as you pleasure yourself before my eyes; it's the serenity of youth

That captures my consciousness; and bleeds into your mind

There's too much of insanity within my own mind, to give up wanting this,

touch of reality's containment; this simple passion blessed with sin

My face pressed up against yours; as we collude with the devil in our bed

Love is just a game, a piercing of the soul; and true love never lasts;

it goes on remembered as a thing dead, broken, and empty.

In this depression; in this desire for your presence, against my skin

the longing I have waited for; so many years is present in your words,

And as I collude with you; in the secret palace built for two

I see your hands, unmarked and unstained by the threat of insanity,

the perfect prism to carry out our works; denial of my thirst for your

blood only heightens my resolve, to carry you into the darkness

Below time; and we can watch the angels' war on high definition T.V.

And allow a moment for breathing in each other's perfumes, we can wait

out through the morning; and as we walk through dreams, I'll tell you

my deepest desire; my most intimate desire, to reach into the screen

And carry you out with me; without a resolution in mind; but just to

Hold onto the fragments of your mind within my breast; to reach into

your heart, and seize my portion; and let it play between the fingers,

like putty; and to kiss it at length, to let it strengthen its root

And to possess you, when the clock strikes midnight, and to dissolve

Within your hands; we can make this march a paramount distinction from

the last; and let desire's aim purge us of the picture of a drifting

soul, we'll see God's face reflected in our waters as we throw stones

So seize me, in the depths of your unconsciousness; and bury me within.

When I wake, and find the rustling birds at my doorstep; they are wanting

and they are perfect for the feast; so many lives have been sustained

through the innocence of death divine; and when I cut their heads,

And then I take their organs out and lay them, one by one

Upon the cutting board; and brace myself for the heat of the oven,

it will be dinner time, and I will feast alone; without the cool

constructions of a dinner party; I'll be left to my own rules,

And as you watch me, from a distance; you might be jealous

But when the winds take me home, and the pressing in of isolation grips me,

it's in my gaze, I know; and in the stars' alignment; and you can reach

out and touch me; so I'll withdraw, but you won't leave me unfed

Through morning's settlement; it is the practice of the dragon

To stain the night red.

Laughing in the face of God, we purge ourselves of innocence, and

take remainder in the parchment where we inscribe our sins; wholly

and unbroken we retain the sentiment, dissolved in fire

I lust for the touch of your hands; against your body

To watch you perform this indecent act, and to let the sin around

me snare against my soul; I dream of the love within you to turn

cold and then to grow into a hateful sentiment of reactionary sin,

Then, as lovers do; we can enact the pain of longing in our skin

And let the voice of heaven flow beneath our dress; and watch each

other's ecstasy lengthen into a flowing of the tide; and a cresting

of each wave as we writhe; solely on the feet, we gather in

Our remainder of the act; and swallow sea water, and breathe

The ocean's mist; and as love colludes with the demons in our breast,

we can carry out each sentence against God's virtues; our lust

Remains unbroken still, and thoughts of you; naked and alone

Will rise with the breathing of my body; as you and I wander the

mire; looking for a soft place to lay our broken bodies, to rest

And to subside within a fracture of a simple dream.

Against a sea of inspecting eyes, I strive to attain the crest's pinnacle;

to rise beyond and above where others may have thrown the towel in,

Because, in this structure of our desolation; I need to know you'll

Harbor safe passage, through the reconstructing arms of our desire, and with

the birth of a season's change; I realize you could end your musing at any

hour; or day, as you see fit. And I could estrange you from my way

But you won't walk away unnoticed; you'll stray here, within my beating heart

And as you go, you'll know your triumph has been an unfortunate one,

because I will persist in this madness; far beyond your stay, I will wipe

the sweat from off my brow, and be discomforted by the arousal you have

Placed within my heart, its sole arrested form encompassed by your arms

And without pleading, although there may be some; and without wanting, again;

you'll breach my hold of sanity, and unloose the demons dwelling in my mind,

unlocking all the keeps where they were held for a short time

And with my breath will come the silence of a day or two; without remembering

Until I can see; until I can breathe and take part in this ritual of flame,

where all my shattered pieces remain untouched; unglued and unhinged,

The remnants of my youth's abandonment; shredded and torn papers of my life.

Where our hearts lie the bath is warm,

so let us corrupt the patterns of our skin;

drop ourselves within the bitter cold confusion

of each other's eyes, and slip the knot open

and over our throats; and seize this moment's

restraint, bless its purity

Before the bottle cracks, and lets in the cold

bitter confusion of each other's breath; and all

the world be shattered in a perfect kiss

Tonight, with wakefulness in my eyes; I'll think

of you, I'll slip away beneath the bath waters

and find myself in your open arms; your hands,

too perfect for holding onto me; and we'll drink

We'll drink to the perfection of our glass,

its bitter taste within our mouths; we'll drink,

And skim the innocence of our reflective pasts,

as we print pages of another book, dissecting

our relationship piece by shattered piece.

### Sunburn

It's in the open night sky, and as I breathe it in and hold; I feel your

body pressed against me, as if it were the summer's cold delight, a shadow

of a frame too tall to meet me halfway, through walking's stitches

To see their despair; and their dress, as they desire for their child

I watch you now, although I should be watching other women through my gown's

lace, without the breath of my surrounding voice to trigger me in deepened

sleep, I come calling to you; as you are, but not for the purpose of desire

And what flesh craves is another matter; the body's cavity is a hole to be

Drilled deeply, in slumber; and as I awaken from the deepest sense of sleep

you are there; eyes closing in on me, and almost a sense of foreboding,

are you the wall of chaos; coming to consume the flesh from my bones,

Even now I hear your voice; it is a whisper and a wicked thing, calling

Against my senses, I speak up before the final collapse of the ring,

and in my deeper breath, there is a silence that surrounds me; should I

then bathe in this madness; and leave the voices within me alone,

And let the ring pursue some other tone; and grip its fleshy bone

From some other wanderer; from some small child, left out in the cold;

I'll wait, and I'll grip on to her chill voice, and let the demons speak

through her, and I'll be waiting for the ring to enter in

Some other silent watcher's grinning cavern; and I'll pick up there.

I cannot see your face within my mind; although I try to break the substance,

and find the salted grain of your voice; it doesn't come, and without penetrating

the matter of my consciousness; I come in contact with the essence of our love

The glorious pursuit of a muse, dressed in pearls and spit into the sea

Remember when the luscious growth of your existence permeated me, and when your

hold against my flesh contained the semblance of a kiss gone wild, and when

our bodies were pressed hard against each other, in the park

Nobody's claim to love contained such brevity; but for this passing flame

I will remember you in the highest form of sacred art; and contain you in a spell

of lasting code; enrapture me yet again, oh destructive force of the dark;

and place your secrets in my heart; where they will not go forgotten

Like a seed of ivory base; a twisted root, and a canopy of withered leaves

You'll drop a drop of blood upon my stain, and christen it again; it will be

blood immemorialized; the sacred stain of love, purchased at the price of broken

hearts, and sealed with the kiss of God's blessing; poured out in the dark

We'll lose ourselves in sinful deaths; and regrets, but cherish every moment

Of our sacred art.

Degrees of separation from the saints; and from their God, whose holy order

places us apart; I'm nine tenths certain that the world that revolves around

the central stone; has those who would continue with their resolution's creed

To carry out an order to put the world in file; as it need be

Each dressed wound has comprehension that the next will bleed the more, and

as we walk in patterned steps outside, I try to drive the demons from my mind;

But as I let them in, they seem to me to be a sea of rationalized thoughts

And ideas; corruptive maybe; and a stinted pyre; but no less a perfect stain

for our ordeals; as the windows know their watching so these know their time

has come; for the abandonment of God is come; and ever everything near us

Will descend with us in fire; and as we are free to choose, are we really so free

As to place the name of God upon our skin; or do we have that kind of substance

in our blood, to make the horses bleed; I wish for one night, one night alone

With an angel; to ask and to be answered from the heavens, what color are

The clouds there; and what race are all the newborn angels; are they all caucasian;

and as the thimble sits in flames, and as my body comes to the gates, I'll crack

my lips and cause frustration to be given birth; because I have no energy of mind,

To sit beneath this olive tree; and hide my true feelings from the nature of God.

In semblance with the truth, and with our broken lies; our broken bodies besides

taking in the chaff and spitting wheat; we hold our grudge against the god of night,

as we process the intuitive constructions of the stars, and bend our wills

Breaking the earth's thin shell, and draining its blood; you look at me,

As I exude my innocent smile; and tonight, we will have a banquet and a ceremony

to usher in the god of life; and her serene distinction of our chemistry, we'll

bring the basket that was handed down through generations of our children,

And as the feast begins; we'll make a loft, we'll lie in it as if to sin,

And setting fuel's consumption on fire; we'll make a nest against each other's

back, for burning like the witches; we'll savor the smell of our raw burnt flesh

Too high to make the distinction between pleasure and pain; and as the night

grows thin, we'll douse ourselves in flames, and roll around between the sheets

Making hot, passionate love; wet juicy flames flickering their tongues

And as we melt in our discomfort ; the discomfort of our pain and lustful sins,

all the world will melt away except our selves; the two of us entwined in ecstasy's

bough; redemption coming on the clouds like a wildfire,

And all the ordinary things of the night; the wind, the rain; the stormy sea

Will wash over us; with break our fleshy sting; and will wrap us in the soothing

comfort of God's illusion; and we'll break bread, and drink our fill of wine

And we'll draw in our breath until tomorrow's fate becomes us.

You will carry me to where I haven't been; and you will starve me, and leave me;

alone by the bedside; when I write to you, it will be love's lost shadow, and there,

in the corruption of your spell; I will walk to you beneath the midnight sun;

And in your gown of purple, in your fine array of jewelery, and in your

Song of desertion; of desecration, you will let me know my place within your home,

lowly and without the proper penance for my shame; so lowly with my sins hanging

against myself; to blame me for all the reasoning behind love's lost endurance,

We will struggle; I will find this thread that encapsulates the desire we once had;

And there; within the pool we'll bathe, and love, as the test flights crash and

burn; as our sight and our vision fades into drunken blurs of time spent wandering,

And we run ourselves under in the caves of ammunition; we bury ourselves with the

rockets and the guns, without a thought for who may come; this is the last place,

Below me, in the tub; in the hot waters, there lies a dormant misery I've placed my

hand upon; will you take it, wash it; bring it here and leave me to my own;

So I may see, and breathe with plain sight my mistakes; and crave the readjustment

Never before have I found something so enticing as her smile.

You've noticed a rhythm or a rhyme; to what has transpired between us; the pattern

of our love's affair, as it was set down in stone; and as we climb the ladder through

our comfort and into the well beyond, I notice you have changed;

As all things change who come in contact with a deeper form of emotion;

These blurred edges about the lines of our insanity, one could capture them on film,

and make a story; as we have made a story from the birth of our desire, come quickly

and come clean of your sins; that we may chart new territories in the stars

And as you notice my backdrop; and my destiny, fear completes the look upon your face,

I've woven into my skin the stretching facets of a broken scar, too shattered to be

born again; and too serene in detail for the night's passage; as I preview your eyes

in the night's serene distinction of our shadows, bursting in flames against the dark

A moment's realization comes, and a silhouette of flesh and sea water;

Bathe with me, in the dark pools of my unconscious; and let the water flow, like blood;

and move across your skin; raise up your hands to the sky, to let the goddess in;

and you will be her wild serpent; her translucent eye; meant to gaze

Upon the deep blue, without a distance to your cry; sheltered in a sink of blood

And left for eternity to walk within the deep, cold; vacant waters.

Remember when the stars were low, and the gazing eye could not see even one;

and when the night was young, and the sun shone brightly even in the reaches

of the night, and our plastic weave as taut, against the trees

And we spent time gathering in the baser needs; sticks for the fire, and blood

For our sacrifice; two lonely souls migrating into the shadows, aloft on a bed

of sweet perfume; a carpet of glass, and swimming in a sea of unconscious thuoght

Your rhythm, in the darkness kept me waiting for the time we would collapse

Too much fear in our rebellion against the sky; and not enough lust to clear our

eyes; so we waited through the momentary rise and fall of the earth, as it would

shuffle; and we captured every plane passing through our sky

And suffered none; we swallowed the passengers and claimed their thrones

Tonight I'll walk with you, against the grinding of cold metal; and spur our sin

as we could walk together; between the gold bridge and the evening's sit;

distantly, I await your bed to comfort me; and in the depths of my sublime

Anticipation for your touch; there is a gnawing sign electrifying my soul:

DO NOT ENTER

As if the clear blue waters could contain passage enough for two, or reduce our

intimacy into the soul of one; where sirens sing the false redemption placed

upon our heads, and with the immigrants, we'll make our bed;

Two unions trapped in time, for the remainder of a sentiment lost.

The mostly bled remainder of who I am; snuffed out before the memory of my

collapse; could stain your sheets, and pillows with its sweat, unto the day

I see myself in the mirror of your eyes, and cast a glance against myself

These dying eyes; these dead pools, I want to cleanse the waters

Birth myself anew; and trade with you, for innocence and for the rising and

falling of your breasts; to know you completely from the insides; and to

burn with your passion, as the flow of the earth rises with your own

Addictions; and when you carry out your indifference, I want to walk

Within your shoes; to be remembered, to be loved ; to be noticed, as though

I'd never left these shores of isolation; but you had found me here anyways,

Too many stories; too many lies corrupt my mind, and when the ashes fall

Completely from the sky, we'll writhe in our death of suffocation, and we'll

purchase our love at a price; the price of death surreal, come to claim us;

Come to mark us with her staff; and in this rejection of a God;

I come close to insanity's silhouette, and see myself in her eyes; and hear

the voices of the dead, rising up; against the shadow of a mountain, the

holy mountain of the gods; and it speaks the lies and the deceit

Which were left within my mind from the beginning of time, and I see plainly

How when all the works have happened and all judgments have been claimed;

that I will suffer twice the pain as you; although we'll suffer it in tandem,

Closing up our wounds of flesh, for torment of the soul.

When nights were cold, and we wandered far from shore; seeking love's

last banner, the depths of which was flying in the air; I made my pact

with the devil, and took her up in my arms; a seasonal affair

She bathed me in sexual satisfaction; while I purged my heart

Of every longing in the midnight air; her cold, diluted blood, washing

over me; and her silk pajamas, caressing my flesh while she stood over me

And in this broken fantasy, in this lifeless mess of pure adulterated sex

I shook my head; and took a vow against her passion; against her fury

and my self-satisfaction; I drew the curtains shut, and blinded myself

from the truth of our affair; and didn't let her in

Now, fourteen years later; you arouse me with your intimate passions;

And the fury of your form, undiluted sexual enticement; and as I grow thin

with age; as the carpentry corrupts; and as your skin endows me with a bit

of burning youth; I try to coalesce my thoughts; into some platform for reason

For being lonely, and depressed; I close my eyes but every dream becomes

Your face, pressed softly against mine, and as we kiss in this hallucination,

I fold into the seed of my regression; not pouring out my love to you, but

keeping it held within; secreted, and safe from prying laughter

You walked with me, and I fled for fear of the dark night's pressure.

Our titles change, as we grow horns and bury ourselves in the dirt; our semblance

of ourselves turns to ashes as we burn the remainder of our sins; and to the

dust, settling on the embers of the fire's last breath; we sweep away our anguish

In the totality of resurrection's assemblage, I proclaim us as the new found gods

We'll bury the books in the fire; we'll scratch our names upon the clouds, and if

we find a reason; we'll dust away the cobwebs from our eyes, and turn ourselves

to purity, the dim reminder of our former faith; recollect with me

The faces of the former gods; so we may model ourselves as new and everlasting

Tributes to their names, as we seize the throne; and bury our former lives,

can you see the remainder of our bones through all the bleeding and the shame;

let's bury it, further beneath the ground; Come with me, and hold me

For a spell; just carry me within your womb, and I will tell you everything

How the stars came into being, and how the sun was born; we'll make our own myth;

but only through our love's conception can it be blessed; so hold me, cradle me;

into your interior flame, where no eyes have pierced or bled you

And as we sit in the shelter of our deepest dream; cocooned,

The lover's lesson blooms, and all the shadows of a still world melt away.

Reaction to a dusty cloth spent upon the face; your lies, little white lies

that play a part in your refusal to adhere; do not be afraid, although there

is longing in my voice; do not be scared, I want to wipe up our misfortune

And although you should be; I ask you not to hide away your face,

And although my hateful eyes come as no surprise; you will endure the pain,

for torture is our epitaph and as the angels play, we're making war; with

each other in the night, love's boundaries pushed, taut constraints

And when the sirens sing; they'll raise a cluster of our faith;

Calling grave complaints against our banner; flapping in the midnight winds,

through shadows we will reconstruct our deepest desires; and purchase a

place among the stars; to realize the war is far from over

And the dissonance of the night's music, as it corrupts our faith

Rewinds and plays a simple and sweet music; for us to dance, and all the

world becomes our stage; and genocide our hunger, for passion's play

resolves with the last woman standing; and she'll give birth to Mars

And war will reign, irresolute songs of battle will play

While we make love in the bath water, and we kiss our scars; and we

complain to the gods that their rehearsed schism could not record our plight.

Our confused rhythm; and the way the waves crash against the shore; I find in you

a streak of beauty that has never been uncovered; diamonds with edges perfectly cut,

And a large extended silence between death and the agony of life;

What could have been a stream of blood has washed against the ocean, and polluted

the foundations of the earth, what seemed to me to be frustration and the agony

of self-deflecting pain; rose high among the fragments of the ocean's tide

While you lay, resurrecting demons in the field; while you lay, incorporating

The schism of a bath once set in stone; the quarry's place; are you familiar

yet with the rising and the ebb, I will demonstrate with magic and with the

small flick of my wrist; what it feels like to be submerged;

Wallow, and wait; wade and recede into the depths; speak silent tongues

And leave your flame work at home; there is no voice for the fluttering

of fire in these depths, only here lies the cavity of your construction,

your mother's womb; bleeding with her firstborn in her arms,

As you recede into the depths and take your plunder; the soul's final dance

Love me with your mouth over my lips, dry kisses; wetly under way, the silence

of an uttered phrase gone deaf; and sang in the dim lit dormitory of our youth.

With a sad silence, I will fade into the waters; and at the edge, you'll drown

for the deliverance of my body; but it won't come, and we'll both be swallowed

in the end; as swimmers often are within the shroud of death

Two consumed lovers; lost in a cold bath, restless souls with incomplete stories

And for our secrets, we will share a grave; and for our love, a stocking left

between our sheets; the dreamers and the cage that kept them locked inside,

For a momentary glance in the sun's bright day; we'll make our bed

And trapped within the gloom of a shadow, lurking on the sky; we'll bless our

time together, and lock hands; folding slowly into a shelter for the evening;

to come undone and be caressed as the waves roll over us; I'll mount your

Shores; and as we sing the song of love making; we'll build a castle from

The sand; we'll splash in the window of our medium; and as we roll through time's

continuum, we'll plant grasses in the field, and shake the trees of poison;

And drink.

As lovers do; we climb through the pages of an Odyssey; black and white text

reduced to the clutter of printed words, and I raise my voice against your

dress, your violet streams of silk; and say the words inscribed upon the lace

As fortune bends, and fate prophecies our contemporary string of hallucinations

I should bend, but I won't and I should cradle the stars bright white seduction;

but I dare not look upon them, and I bleed black upon my stage, upon my wasted

words left unsaid; and I make a sterile incision into my gown; and rest

Carefully cutting the crimson from my dress; and pouring out new life

Into the meaning of the night; I bring false motives and simplified gestures;

complete with the chaos of the sun, and as we work through the oil fields,

as we strike, and as we burn them through the night sky, and fill our lungs

With toxic smoke; and ash, I love to watch the world burn with you

Treading on thin film, with open wounds; I succumb to your incessant voice;

my throbbing head poised to see your ill construction of a plane, this will

be our descent; into hell's furious fire, crash and burn

In flames.

We come with the stolid silence of our generation; an immutable derision against

the gods of summer and of autumn; when leaves fall, we will take our direction

against the winds, and open up a season of true change; and the gods won't bleed

They won't sit in silence either; they will be thrown into the fires of our

Sacrilege; and as we take root with each other, you and I; we'll sweep the gods

beneath our rug and play with the fire that was meant to burn; sinner and saint

alike; and we'll play games with the remains of our catalogue; and we'll make

A face ; wear masks to reenact the difference of our worth; you hold the keys

To hell and the afterworld, while I play the role of a baptized sinner, I throw

repentance to the wind, while you collect my sins in baskets, as we weave our

way through hell; sterilize my mindfulness, and bring some clarity to judgment

And as I grey; as age consumes me in this play; leave for me a canopy

So I may grow old with you; against the moon you'll watch my reflection cast,

like a shadow of a drop of blood; spattered violently with age, and become

Hardened against the cold and velvet sky.

In the seed of our discussion, every prime note withstanding; I take you

into account and hold you against your will; so savor your complaints,

and rise with me in the night's fire; we'll build an epilogue of desire

To purge the demons from within our minds, and we'll watch the city burn

And you'll hold onto me, as the night closes in; and as fast as we run, and

as hard as we try to dissolve these fruits; in the bitter syrup of saliva,

it's common knowledge that one must eat in order to be satisfied;

So we divulge our naked bodies to each other's eyes; and let passion's

Fruits linger on the tongue; as the breasts swell with anticipation, and

the sexual organs bleed with lust; and we bake bread, and we make our holy

loaf as an offering and a sacrifice; and we lift it up to the Lord,

Heaven help us for this sinful act; the jury and the judge; as we consume

Our souls in fire and ash; blessed and holy sacrament with a sour twist,

risen and savored, and soured dough; we walk the night as bleeding angels,

Past our time and without trumpets; and as God collects; we bare ourselves

We are the fruitless generation; with no name, and no history to speak of;

blessed are those who do not take part in our forgotten stains, and who

rise for the consumption of our souls; and in this way we have chosen our

Leading lines for the recession of our livelihood.

Defeated, as the mind rolls in upon itself; and with my deceitful eyes, I look

at you and smile; looking up against the sky as you lay straddling my back;

You keep me tamed, as I hoped you would; but now it's time and I will

Show you the world through my eyes, my terrible substance of life, revealed

through plastic; an incision across the skull and the tubing touching your

face; electrodes marking every area of grey matter, and with a shock of

Substance, I catapult you through my life; and as we take this journey

I make you high; as high as you'll let me and a little more, tweaked pain

and a semblance of disarray; a malformed denial of our lust, I pray to

the gods what cost they may reveal to me; as payment for this indistinct

Resurrection of my soul; and I gather in the life's blood of your veins

In flasks; to purchase dreams, and realize my ecstasy; rolled up in glass,

to reveal my importance in your life; as I am the mind's wanderer, gaze into

me, and collude with me in the depths of a shattered nightmare;

Broken glass, and filthy love; we make lust seem a silly word when we are done

To the barren earth, and to the sky; we cry out in pain, as love's last

dance; we gaze into the horizon and let the sun burn out our eyes,

And the finality of our restrictive consciousness endures our suffering.

Our sense suffers, plainly as the mist rolls out the door; and we collapse

in bright red plumes, imploding; as much as you say that heaven has a place

on earth, and as much as you cease to call me a liar and a sinful girl

As much as we mould each other's wounds between thick thumbs; and sit

Easy on our couch, while we rest; I will deny my path to ecstasy, and I will

drown myself in the fires of pretentious babes; the cattle come, to arrest

the stock holder; and my unfortunate ones seize the essence of your flame

As duty calls, there is the eye of the beholder; looking on, staging

The march across the sky; with ivory stilts, to hold in the reflection of fire

as if grows thin; and as we turn up the remainder of our uncertain sin;

Every eye shall see me, even those who pierced my heart; even you, love

And as we go into the march across the sky; with ivory clothes; dressed as

saviors from the night; and into dusk's shadow, clothed like falling angels,

We must pass through the garden of the gods; and come out unscathed.

We left with unfinished business; the crow's complaint singing in the yard,

and as I wove my bracelet and became the loving wife I knew I was destined

to become; the world tore strips from my dress, and I sank into the pit of

My regretful lies; I never was too young to notice, I never was too

Buried in my dreams, to seek out shelter in another cavern; in another place,

but now I call this last refuge my home; and beat out the rhythm of insanity

upon my drum; forefinger and thumb. And as a casualty of war, I wet my lips

And imbue the night with sadness of a dream; I clear calamity from my

Undulating vows, and speak to no other voices but this one; and to her, I

shed the night and capture all the stars as if it were the dawn's early

rising; and for her, I place my skirt upon the altar; and say, "come."

Love is easy, love is blind; and in the cold, grey still of night

When fear comes hunting me like a bad surgery, leaving me empty inside;

I place my wrists upon the table, and let my lover cut; and for fear of

blood he will not do his part; spilling myself for him, I let it slide

And it bleeds, and it makes a mess of everything; and I let myself

Relax, and ease into this madness I call home.

A clever disguise; you wear me thin with your intelligent eyes, and I have

seen the purging of the seas; drown me in fire, and let me watch my body

bleed; as you corrupt my skin with salient matters; I itch for your touch

And in the sea, beneath the ocean's surface; in the deep hollow nest

I'm watching with my blade strapped to my chest; I'm watching as you come

with your destructive eyes; and I will watch you bleed, as my heart gives

sacrifice to you; love me. Bare breasts exposed, love me; in the ocean's

Depths, our sinful plunge of ecstasy, as you tie me to your body

And make me wait for the resurrection of our souls, we plunge and feel

nothing but the cold, grey fusion of our minds; drowning in the sea

Watch me as I slowly surrender to your words; and watch my waves shatter

flesh and bone, and draw me in; like blood to a syringe; and cross

The ocean's canopy with my heart in tow; and we will scout the edges

Of our minds, as they bleed black waters; and as you go, I'll make my

last mistake; I will unfold the resolution of my longing, and my

desire; and scrape the ocean's depths for someone to love me.

These strips of selfless death, collected and laid down at my bedside;

your hollow hands cannot withstand the pressure of my inaction, and so

I guide you underneath my cloak and whisper in your ear a secret hymn

And drain the life within you; and I collect the prism of your heart

As death resides upon your flesh, I make a covenant with her; to keep

you safe from harm, so I will spill my blood upon the pavement; and I

will keep you warm at night, from this distant and sorrowful shore

Place in me the birth of your everlasting hope; and I will bear her

And I will bare my flesh before your eyes; so that your stuttering

may fail, and that the winds of our enchanted evening should be fair

Remember when we were mortal; when the skies bled red, and we didn't

Give it a second thought; it was the evening's hush upon the wind,

but now, we're older and more mature; and we know secrets; even so,

when our child blossoms into the dark and handsome knight

The wizard's pupil; or the demon of the night; perhaps we'll

See a steady pace of grey, blowing over the sun as it sets sail

into the west; and perhaps I'll blow against your skin, and send you

off to bed; again before the end of everything,

Hopes are purchased for the dead; but dreams, and memories last.

Your eyes reject the coming of the messiah; and in my bed, I find myself looking deep

into them; their almost mystical reflections upon my lenses; if there were shame in

innocence, I would find it in your eyes; so speak plainly of what you see, love;

And my voice will echo your words upon the night's air, we'll see dawn coming

With the scripts of broken angels' wings, upon the clouds; upon the harsh still

dark of night, and when we call our names; together in unison; they will dig for us

a grave to mark the passage of our times; in it we will host our kiss of earth's

Descent, and place a lonely light's farewell; we'll string up lanterns in the garden

Seize the better part of me, and regress into sin; take home the books the school

gave you and burn them, let the world drop into chaos; and let confusion have its

reign; corrupt the innocent for nothing more than mere, diabolic play;

And when it's all complete; when your house lies a sterile hold; and you come clean,

All the world broken and shattered from your perfect chaotic dream, it will conclude

with ease of arms; and being set loose at the first of dawn, when birds consume your

flesh, and a nighttime of unrest bleeds your body stiff; I will unloose;

I will unfasten your belt; and take you in, close the door to your perdition,

I'll let you one last moment of your energetic smile; before I shut you in, and how

it goes down; how the wording transpires upon the paper; when the angels sweep

your mess beneath the rug; come clean, and let the night have its rendition of suicide;

To keep the corpses clean, and the air sterilized.

The world takes in its breath; and purges the unrighteous from its midst;

and the carpenter calls for a requiem; and for his angels to make war,

while the oceans lap wave after wave against the shore; and I call into

The night; asking sleep to remedy my disease; to purge my mind of insanity

But how can the night subdue my dreams, and hear my voice; it's a silent

call into to dark pools that require a sacrifice of blood; my unconscious

mind, where the winding tugs no longer heed the mirror of the day

Dressed in black, I linger at your doorstep; like a shadow, longing to be freed

from the inauguration of my wedding; and in my gown of black, I light a candle,

hoping my salvation will come; within the night, and into morning's bloom

Tomorrow's radiance never comes; and the hopeless romantic fades into the dust,

and seasons spin; and purchase their fair warning, before the seas turn black;

My mind is a trumpet for the doom of men; catastrophy awaits in the corners

Of my bed; where small children watch as I corrupt their mothers with my sins;

and the angel of the lord spoke unto me in a dream, and she said; 'blessed

are you amongst women; but accursed is the fruit of your womb,' I am bearing

The seed of death;

White walls and a hint of fresh pain in the air; your eyes looking after me,

my nausea proclaims the beginning of the end, as we strive to the redemption

song; and it isn't any easier knowing you were the last one to come before

My surgery; and it's not easy now to see your face; perhaps I would have

Forgotten all our dissonant memories, your blinded eyes as I showed you the

truth of my escape; and when we held hands in the delivery room; where you

shook hands with the devil in his fortress of deceit; I took on too many

Lies; and an errand of inconvenient truths surfaced; why won't you promise

Me the resistance of fortune's remains; cut the threads in the casket, seek

the promised land; why will we watch through the moment of our peace and be

still, why not devour the injustice like a plague;

And as we walk the shores to our deliverance; and comb the sea for

A place to set the night's candle by; to watch the rain drip slowly from the

awning; and make a mark upon the water; stone by stone, cast into a dark sea.

Drink a fresh replacement for your soul; and bleed your body clear of every word

you've ever spoken to the dark; and as the angel rises, to come and claim you

in the night; for passage into the western lands; I'll knead your pillow softly

Speak, but don't be spoken to; you need your rest tonight; and while you dream

Let Satan fill your void, with bitter holes far deeper and darker than you had

ever imagined possible; and while you curse, I'll sing you softly to sleep,

with open eyes you'll shudder as the winds grow loud, and you will claim the

Night's passage abroad; destiny awaits you with open arms, and when you see her,

You will howl with the darkness and venom of a serpent seeking shadow from the sun;

in bitter tears, you'll drown. Without wiping your eyes, you'll see the four

horsemen waiting for you; to take your burden and cast you down upon the stones

Blessed are those who are not you; and for this dream to be fulfilled, there

must be blood; and I offer you a knife. You cut me. And I bleed with red blood

Like rain falling from a midnight sky; and as we kiss our last goodbye, I stutter

the words you gave me on our first kiss; those open ended words of regretful

thinking, I plant them on your lips, and smile; only in heaven is such a goodbye

Possible; only with hell's deep contemplation can we reduce the risk of sin.

Dressed in the dresses we made for Sundays; and smiling deeper than the night,

for a plain passage to be shown to us; so we may lay our secrets inside, a

hidden angle bent toward the destruction, and a hidden market bent on greed;

And lust goes down the throat just the way you need it to; desire's burst

Of flame, to gently subdue the cradling scars of our youth; so as candles are,

and burn; I've found my rhythm out, and it won't stop you coming in at night;

your curiosity could have killed you; twice at least if I hadn't stayed my hand

But back in the corner, where the sins are sent; there the ancient prophecies

Are unloosed; with fire, as I burn the demons to the ground with it; with water

as I drown them in their holy liquor; and bless them one by one as they are

born from me; these surprised creatures; elementals, work as they may be;

They're born stiff, they're born accursed; they're born inhuman,

And while this humanity washes off the sins of its digressive skin; I take for me,

children of the wind; of the moon and sky; these elementals; and place them at

hold against my body; with only one thought in my mind, what would humankind

Look like; would it laugh inside me, would it dance and sing at 5 years old;

would it arouse some other lover, one day; and would it die at a ripe, old age;

There's something wet in the clouds today, something moist and beautiful.

What my eyes see; and what my soul recedes from, is the soft buttery night sky,

broken up in pieces by the clouds; and as I drift into sleep; the cradle that

surrounded me shatters; and I'm left in other worlds, in other spheres; some

More sacred than the others, not everything is equal and beautiful

There are darknesses within my unconscious, buried forms bleeding to the surface,

white canopies could not deceive me of their presence in the yard; I know who

lurks within, it is my demonic twin; harping for a dance with me,

Too young to want to slay this monstrosity; while too old to abandon myself

To the flames of perdition, and while I raise my hand; while I make myself

ready for war against this serpent beast; I bend and I break; shatter to a thousand

pieces in front of her, and as though she's won; she celebrates her victory,

Victory can be a deceiving sin to languish in, and not all who perish are deceased,

I rise; unfold my arms, and look about my mess that I've constructed; and while

she's drunk with a bit of wine; and lots of merriment, I seize her structure

in the yard, I take her for her value; and I purge the world of my sinful lust,

There's so much less of anticipation; so much less of life, when it's ill constructed

A purged fantasy, and a salient dream; come uninterpreted; this is why I skim

the pages, and this is why we walk the beaten path; to consume and to devour,

Without a hint of bad taste.

This is my life, the cold and weary particles; the blanch and undulating violets;

suffering from winter's frost, and through all this, I seize a stage and assemble

my decree; what length there is in the whole of summer should be extended,

And let fall's leaves go on and winter's purging the sky of snow and ice; come

But let the beauty of the rhythm of your heart not cease or change its tune;

so close have you laid against me, and so much have I spent to push away,

But the clear ice speaks the truth, and tomorrow's season will reduce to ash;

What comfort you may have found in her, the same was for me, finding you gone;

the same store of ice and shadows; and blood, shed as a tear; to disrupt

The field's flow, of ice; and to shelter my head from the stars;

Tomorrow comes a craving, while today we fast; in silence, we fast until the

moon sets in her course against the backdrop of the sky; and here I am,

Reduced to a fantasy of ash and flame, forlorn with my umbrella hanging

over me; it's no shelter; not from the howling winds.

Tell me then, the love that burns your heart; and the loose condition of your

clothes, how they feel upon the skin and what they hide; I dress up myself to

bathe within the moonlight; and capture every particle of your warmth;

The moon is out, and the sky is full of bugs; buzzing as the wolves howl

And as the night captures the pieces of your life, unmarked and unbroken

shards of betrayal and substance, I let the waters fall; and the marks reduce

my stare, into the clear white light of a summer moon; and as I fall

From the disk of my concentration's sum; and pull the cattle from the yard,

Weak in hands, and weak of heart; you move me so, and I cannot let the life

of my lover fade; so I constrict the vintage portal that was crafted in glass;

I take my memories again, within my sunken eyes; and I cast them into the shadow

Of a doubt three times forgotten; into the mind of a constrictive spell,

too much warning for the innocent to laugh about; and too much greed conspires;

There i a twist, and a hold against my arm; that shatters bone

So we will migrate through tomorrow's edge, and say the time we'll meet

in bed, we'll say the time as we come far away from this destructive field;

And purge the violent skin from our incision.

I can offer you this, the unmade bed with the sheets dissolved in a mess

of glorious chaos; I can see to you, to make you long for something you've

never before experienced; I will allow the dispersion of my voice; to enter

Into your sweet lungs, so that you may keep the secret of my desire

And when winter passes through, and all our muddied life has turned to shadow;

while the cats play chase in the backyard; and the wooden fence collapses

from their weight, let's spend some time chasing one another through the street,

Even if the world burns for our stability, and for our static selves to linger

Upon the tip of the ice before it breaks; come before us, and bring your youthful

smile; and serene identity; come light the candle of my phrase before the words

dissolve into a pool of unconscious water; and I'll breathe deep to let them

Bubble up with air; pour in your own dissolved solutions, before we bare ourselves,

Exposed to the midnight air; and naked, without a coat; without a reason for going out,

let's excite our passion's ending, before the sentence comes; we'll ride the fall

like a midnight train to Mexico; and when the baker is busy preparing his dough,

We'll be off in steam, carrying our baby through the winds of a distant set of tracks;

Carrying ourselves and our dissonant hearts to the border of acceptability,

to the carriage of our times; and into misuse; and the derangement of forms,

We'll go down in history as fools and corrupted sinners; and as lovers do.

This darkness is in every man and woman; what you describe, each day

we die a second death; and a third, for the intensity of life prescribes

us plenty of doubt, and longing; suffering, and when it's night

And the demons call our name; to feast upon our flesh and give us

The satisfaction that we crave, too long we hang our heads in the night

air; bleeding slowly; and too long we shut ourselves inside, and let

the gnawing at our wrists become us; and as the ancient play resounds

Within our bones; this odyssey of ill remembered fate, we press on

Against the calling of the stars' consumption of our flesh; we press inwards

and take hold to what we can; there are pockets of light, these we may

carry into the night and shine against the sun; so that tomorrow may bring

The beauty of the world in full flavor; so do not dread the demons' pact

It is necessity of life to give in to death, so sullen and such a perfect

swallowing; this pill you've chosen as your own true love, could only fold

its skin around you waist; but not against your breasts; the heart holds

Something to be remembered, and as it folds in upon your skin and sinks

We'll merge in that infinity of form, and spread the sky blue.

There is a thread, woven through the fabric of my heart; that bleeds for you,

and when it's time to pull; when it is time to let everything bleed into the wind,

I'll take a photograph of your tearful face; and set the world on fire before

Your eyes, those perfect globes; like water sitting in deep, dark pools

How I wish I had this day's remembrance scratched into my skin; and I will, with

my knife's edge I'll make a mark to remember you by; so don't let the throat

gurgle at the calling of your death; too long, let life slip past you

And when those perfect globes of sea water drown me in their love;

I'll press on, and I'll see fire and flame come; and the water pour out of them,

not enough to quench the heat or give the body sustenance; an endless ball

of death, rolling from the depths of the soul, this is how I will remember

Your faith.

The remedy lies in my veins; and you will have the truth of my circumvention,

pleased eyes will greet you as we mock the stars; and as we roll in the substance

of a dream, unlocked; as we retain the mystery of our youth and proceed

Within the silence of the pool; the earth will swallow us, and we'll be raised

Again; and perfect hollow selves of what we had retained; in this corporeal

blossom, I skew the threads of fantasy and come uncorrupted through the flesh's

folds; in a vain attempt to swallow the sea, we will drown

And our hollow lives will change into a purer form of ashes;

So the moment retains our purity of deliverance; so the gods retain our flesh

within their mouths, and as for sudden silence; it regains a seed of truth,

There's so much blood shedding in the fields; there's so much sadness in

Your eyes, those perfect globes; I want to bathe within their glassy sea,

and feel the rhythm of your pulse running through them, unless we call this

night as closed and ended; I will pour my gaze within them and seek the

Depths of your unconscious mind, I'll seek your soul; to find the truth

Of your existence, where it meshes with my own, I will seek the solitude hidden

in everyone, within your glassy globes; and in the sea; I'll bathe 'til morning.

I rest, momentarily purging my mind of sin; and I caress my body in ways that I've

never imagined, and I wait for the world to wash over me like a flood; of pain,

regret and sorrow; while I expunge the loneliness welling deep within my soul

And it's a cold light that burns; in this exotic atmosphere, a simple cell

Of death, surrounded by the waiting arms of the erotic reception of my life;

as all things call, so the blood remembers your name; and the dissonant voice

you played with your tongue the day you left me standing on the edge of fire

Without a comforting call to walk me to my bed; and without the day's breaking

Light to shield my eyes from the depths of this pure blackness, pushing inside,

without care, I open the blinds and let you enter; without care of form or

substance; I let you purge yourself inside of me, and as we make the end of love;

I drive the knife's blade deep into your heart, so you may never forget my

Passion, as it flows; ebbs, flows against your skin.

Stitched abdomen, a restless eye; the burning of a thousand men, women, and children;

in the blink, when the waters swell to bursting and collapse; an imploding sense of

what may come when we're arrested; for telling children to laugh in the face of death

I cannot see the senseless eye expanding; nor can I hear the howling of the dead

Restlessness and the counter-productivity of our desertion, spending souls money on

a worthless cause; remember when we had a hold of ourselves, and could see the whispers

carried through the torn pages of a dithered skirt; I want to plead with the angels

To carry back my coin; to let the women go, so I may weep for other species

Two nights in the hammock; two nights on the ground, and one split consciousness,

awaiting the decision for which way sanity will become corrupted; I beg my indecision's

Answer, and I plead with the darkness deep within my eyes, to hold a rationalized thought

As captive, so that surrender may hold; I watch the winds respect the night's full

moon, and I watch your laughter come; slowly come, while agents wait their centerpiece,

with the dignity of stars; and I can read the fortunes of those who set fire to the earth.

Step inside my room; we won't take any interruptions, be patient; and be secure

in your nakedness; with me, you'll take part in a ritual I've been preparing

since the dawn of my breath; don't be frightened now, there will be blood

Let our heads turn back until our skull reaches our back; exposing our necks

And as we hold the blade and slice, as we take substance from ourselves, and

from the night; we'll purchase bitter dreams with our blood. Tomorrow's eve

we will fulfill the prophecy; but for tonight, let us bathe in each other's

Smile; a sad and distinguished stare. I will let you hold the candle for a

Moment, as I push through this darkness eating at my consciousness; we'll

feed soon, on the remnants of our last night's supper; bread and wine;

The body and blood of our lord. So go outside, naked; with me

And we'll make a toast to the desert of our loins, the hot; impatient scabs

that hold us underneath a bed of sin; and we'll dress ourselves in the clear

Cloth of our undergarments, and eat and drink the substance of the gods.

Through the looking glass, through every facet of a broken mirror; we'll scrape clean

the blood from our hands as we pass through time's reconstruction of the past, our

moment changes the season, and we are remiss in our distinct recollections of a version

Of history; facts meet fairy tales, and time colludes with Satan; as we rise through

The devil's light of truth; false conceptions of our world make use of sentence fragments,

fractured pieces of a broken mirror left undisturbed; I want to slit my wrists with

A sliver of your truth, and be laid in the ground beneath your feet; naked and exposed.

And every eye shall see me; even Satan's hoarde, and they will weep for my death to be

exposed; and the angels will purge themselves of song, for a night; and every eye shall

see me; even the destitute and the prophet, my world is as yet incomplete,

Paraphrase me, and look into my eyes; we'll make our bed; exposed to the sins of nature,

And those of the more unnatural interest; we'll bind ourselves against the stone wall

structure, and rehearse our calling into the night, as we record every word ever spoken

between us, in the secret shadows of our birth; and I'll let go, and I will sway

Your mind; and trumpet my voice against the wall, before you are left standing I'll

Swing the sword of truth, and pierce these bitter lies you've offered me;

while we make love into the reaches of the dawn, and sing to the birds the ordinary

coming of the light; in this passage: 391.

As your perception of me changes, as years pass and the dithering of youth

obtains my skin; where have all the children gone who were about me, where

have I reached; so far into the laughter of the night's supplemental sky

No more of deep and longing speeches to my ears; no more drawn out kisses

Lengthening my resolve to stay up late and scurry in past my mother's

prying eyes; I let the wind blow through me, and carry away my flesh

Tonight I'll dream I am in love with some other woman, and she will carry me

In her arms, at lengths she'll read to me; before I close my eyes we will

make love; and wrap our arms around each other in the semblance of some

great work of art; "The Kiss," focused on the sustenance of love's greatest

inheritance; and we'll capture it in focus, and just out of breath's touch.

But for tonight, in bleeding heart I pray we can regain a grain of youth's

exposure, and pin it up on the cupboard to see each and every day while I

make breakfast for the two of us;

And you'll play the lover's part so simply and beautifully

That as I grow with age, and wander far from the focus of your mind,

you'll stay within my shadow and bleed with me; when all the world is dark.

This craving for construction; it never ceases, to pass through and into

being a semblance of the mind's diluted edge; I can wait and want, without

receding in desire; I want to hold you in my arms, but this incessant

Writhing storm of fire will suffice; for now. Because love's last interim,

When we made sex beneath the stars and called on God's revelation to soothe

the mind; we turned to Satan for a spell, and drank the blood mixed with

fire, all the world was but our stage to sing blasphemies into the deep ocean

Of womanhood; and to break the constructions I had planned out in my mind

Was a fruitful and forgiving act; no crime larger than our sins spent leavening

the holy bread; and no trumpet blast small enough to not reach the stars;

When you were ill that evening, and I gave you dress; I bathed you and clothed

You with what innocence I had left, and yet you strayed; and neither of us prayed

nor had the desire, we stammered on as drunken demons spitting in the night;

And as day broke; the water did as well, and we birthed a girl to our delight,

And gave her milk, mixed with the blood of an ox; sacrificed to the flames of hell,

and there was something in the water that night; which made you ill, some

Violent construction of a viral tick; turning your insides out,

And I could see your soul; dark and beautiful, and you could see my flesh;

and as we rode the ecstasy of our revival, we conceived her there;

in the shadows of a flat and looming darkness.

When the lights go out; in the dark, I purge myself of my sins; and deny myself

of any chance of an existence beyond the present, and I would fly; if I had wings,

and I would soar above the earth looking for a place to rest my heart;

And I would find you. Blue as a shadow, sitting by a stone; without thought

Of me, of anything beyond your reach; and I would fly down and purchase a branch;

to sit and watch you toil, resting my weary wings; if I could fly, I'd surface

just above you, where the demons dwell, and cast my net on you; and break your heart

And fly away with the pieces, removing them from your chest; if I could fly,

I'd find a way to make it happen. In honesty and truth, injustice lies in the cold-

weather balloon collapsing in upon itself; I deny this fantasy of mine, as it breaks

the stone; the brick and mortar of our love, and leaves it destitute; but isn't that

Reality's pursuit; to break one's heart and leave them in a state of self-awareness;

Love me like you used to, steal me away in the depths of the night and bring us

parallel constructions of our dreams, the other lovers can; and sometimes do; pursue

this tract of self-containment; I measure you in the offset of a lie

Come to me, in the regression of a fantasy half-realized; but come, and do to me

what you will; but have me in the night, beneath the canopy of the dead.

The night's bold judgment, and its harsh climate; how we change as people when

the north winds come, I crave the solitude of this corruption, and seek shelter

in the violence of our days spent laughing in the mire; your technological

Probes, your insecurities; how they lie extended beneath the waist

If you don't take a different course of education, I'll sink my teeth in,

and bare the cavity of my developmental curse; we lie in opposite directions,

oh, how we lie; and cave in at the first chance of neglect by the other partner

People will come, and they will see us bleeding in the yard; not saying a word

Only strange rebukes, made by the wind of an empty lung; could claim my cavity

and ease my passage in this foreign storm, only your heartfelt message, getting

through could save my soul; and even then how time corrupts its message

Even when the Good Lord brings His violence to our doorstep; and hastens us

With death, and fire; even ashes won't subdue my longing, and my desire; it is

the clean cut bounty to purge all the darkness away, blessed is he who comes

in the name of Satan's bounty; and blessed be the one who interacts with

The Ancient of Days; who calls upon both sides, in equilibrium

And stays the violence in their soul; who makes peace with their insanity.

What bothers the intellect is a child, torn from the womb and bleeding;

and as I take her into my breast, to nurse; I call upon the devil in his

bed; and we stay up all night, chatting about this new and violent revolution

God's descent and the cradling of a baby is good form for that; this innocent

Child; corrupted by her birthright and inheritance; we've lost ourselves in

dreams and in anticipation, but Heaven will brighten in our midst; it isn't

purgatory's place to hold us, when we were babies once, when we were sinless

And sold to the divulgence of our earth; anything was affordable, even love

But then we declined, we gave our madness over into thought; and dreams desisted;

revolution was born and the angels called their trumpets into battle; more pain,

more lives at stake for the corruption of assembled reason; wherein lies

Injustice; plain and simple purgery of ideas; and our cold contamination bore

This child, bent on hell's desire to claim the throne of God; and even after,

to seize the right hand and His inheritance; a reform is in order, and a misdeed

Cannot be truly played out through her skin; her flesh brings the sky down

But even after, what will be born of her; what calamities caused; I break my womb

open; so see her home, to see the holy organ threaded through with stitches;

And I see Heaven and Hell, and the distance of lover's quarrels.

You wept into my hands, as if their silent caress could take you slowly away

from the pain; and you stripped naked before my eyes to end the suffering,

As we slowly entered into the water; and let the pool consume us for an hour,

So much pain within you, so little love of life; I wish I could retain in you

a sense of beauty; and of peace, but these are hours past; a long walk down

the road from here; the sudden silence at your door brings misery and contempt

Oh, for the heavenly skies to cry out; if they could hear your voice when you

Have spoken of your world, they would agree with me; here lies a girl whose

tantamount purgatory lies in the destiny of angels; and yet the angels retract

their hand; and heave him down into the depths of the fiery furnace;

What would my sins contain; surely their forgiveness is more bitter on the tongues

Of gods than your own, my small weaknesses are plenty; and my mouth is filled

with double speech and lies, herein lies the plain and uncorrupted truth of being,

I am no messenger sent by God; but I have heard the seasons and the winds of change

Beneath me lies the rose; whose thorns have pricked you many times; ages ago,

when you were but a child; life bleeds away so easily; the misery restrains us

And purgatory is a name for those who stray from the right hand of God;

I'll show you my scars, and my blood; and let you drink from my left hand.

What bothers me is the carbon monoxide, and the toxins in our blood;

as we proceed into the bath water naked, together giving off our body

heat; and as the temperature rises, and we make waves; I long for

Broken silence, for even bitter tears; to consume the wash

Yet you stay unspoken in the waves; and in your lack of dress; unclothed

and naked to the eye; but it's your soul I want to see, the hidden underneath;

I want to step in your shoes, and feel the water through your exposure.

Love me, like you do a child; even innocence has its limits in the young,

expose yourself to me; naked and brutal as truth may be; and I will let you

corrupt me, for a season and a half; while you lay naked over me

And brush my hair, and sing the seance in the darkness to the demons which

Inhabit both our lives; and we'll make no plans, and seize no life beyond

what comfort live in the bottom of this vast ocean; so plant me in your

womb and carry me; as a child, to term; and love me.

Expose yourself to me.

Your warm skin against my neck; the rough edges pleading for release,

and in my contemporary bed of plastic silk; I wed thee, too soon;

Without a proper burial, this feast has ended; and the prophet will

Come again to purge us of our sins; a handsome girl with pretty eyes,

red, swollen lips; ready to kiss the passers by; and she exchanges

sex for money in the yard; between her preaching, some would call her

A whore, but I say she is God's chosen; a lover at the door for those

Who enter near. Would you call my name if I decided to follow through

with all my plans; and leave you in the darkness of my bed, too soon;

I'll bring you food and water before I go; and stay half the night,

Awaiting the snow and ice; hail will rain for me; and then I'll call

the night deceased, and stroll through darkness lest we meet tomorrow;

and come to grips with marriage, and come to grips with each other's

Broken necessity for love; there is no laughter and no forgiving,

Just the cold mutilation of our self.

The chaos in our confusion of the mind; its bleeding edges, growing stranger

all the time, as we walk through the shadow of unconscious thought; and grow

Too much happenstance for nervous breakdowns; and too little life left unsavored

We melt completely in each other's arms; a momentary lapse in reason, while

tomorrow's game is cited; the purge of every strain of love, its last decibel

lost to the wind; and as we grow complete within each other's grasp,

Only time will tell the end of this strange, exotic kiss; to let go of reason

For insanity; to liken chaos as a comfort call, we'll bleed each other dry

of lust's serene responsibilities; and form our own opinions of what love

must be; love is perfect, love is kind; love is the last sentiment before

Death's aroused departure; and when we open the door to Satan's lair,

Love becomes departure from our sanity; beckon me into you, and we'll make

love a physical conjecture; we'll twist and turn to love's end; and make

hasty decisions before the end, when we must perish; when we must call

Down fire upon our gates; and let hell bloom.

Every inch of my thigh exposed; and as we travel through forgotten places,

through forgotten times; while we're alone and imagining the world through

different lenses, I want to pose for you; I want to get up on the table,

And pose for you; you'd draw me still, every measure of my meat in pounds

And ounces; or should I take my package somewhere else, so we can fondle

and braise and scour my flesh, it's not the three minutes of crowding around

a table that makes a meal a meal; so why don't you let me pose for you;

And if the thick sunset weren't enough to give you rise; perhaps these

tight jeans will; or perhaps summer's sentience is not enough for some

to take delight in; they'd rather purchase an hour of hell and let the

World crumble; I'll be back, I'm in the kitchen checking the coffee,

Dreams and hours and days; they always take me by surprise; but never you

you haven't got it in you I think; but sometimes that's for the best,

Life's not a surprise party per-se,

Let's make ourselves a drink; and dance, and have a little fun; relax

And you can draw my picture and we can throw it in the fire in the end.

We've raised our heads into the sober aisle of our reflection, and as you

gather your thoughts, I spend some time deflecting all the demons in my mind;

Raise a glass, and drink the wine of our entitlement; and as I see you

Lost in almost-prayer, before I speak a word; I gather in each paragraph,

and smile at the symmetry of language; our open wound will never heal, my love;

as if to fade into an ever-after sunrise; where we live almost-happily

Among the burning flames of our city; among the ruins of our loved ones,

Scattered here and there; their bodies wet with blood's desirous pain,

engorged on the last remains of what food was in the stocks; and loving

each other's flesh to the fullest extent of God's laws,

I cannot abide by this reflective curse; and so I swear to the gods of the

Living, and to Heaven's hold; that should we come to this, I would be better

off perished from the start; at any rate; my insanity; my fantasy for survival's

shores runs weak, and with bloodshot eyes; I hold up the candle as we purge

This plague upon our minds out; this is my last trip into this abandoned home,

And when the blinds close, there we'll be; holding hand in hand and shuddering;

requesting the small substance in our pockets; as we tame the darkness, or be

subdued; this chemical imbalance; the rolling shores of life's worth, nestled

In a bottle of the purest hallucinogenic drug known to man.

Your question implies a certain lack of faith; in my ability to sanctify this

moment, but I have words in secret tongues which you know nothing of, and as

I shed my magic; as I weave my worded speech upon your doorstep

I call out the cannibal fire burning deep within you, the sadistically sour

Tones; and we'll break bread, and casually drink the bride's great glass of wine,

and peaceably exist; laying against each other's wombs; for far too long, I've

imagined you here, within this canopy; enclosed and secured against the outward

Breach; the hole within the world that pulls against my energies; and I'm

A captive here, in this prison of my own design; such perfect structure,

and plain divinity wrapped up in a tarp; And I wish you had come sooner,

when I was younger even than today; on the edge of my season of change;

Cast the net in, and listen for the voice upon the sea; dear lover

For if you do; and if you make her bleed, like I did; so many years ago,

she'll stick you with her scale, and slice your wrist wide open;

and we'll break bread, and casually drink the bride's great glass of wine.

What lies within the basin; it is an age old demon of the deep, and it has come

to save us all from the suffering of our sins; so you and I, we'll open our wombs

And let the beast inside; to crawl and fight for life's spasmodic breath

Love me, for a moment as we claim insanity's superior distinction; among the threads

of our unconscious thought; and as we breathe in the life that will consume our hearts;

take notice that nothing gone said and done was done without reciprocity,

I burn for the lies you spin me; and I cradle your substance, even through deceit;

Love me, for this momentary stint of bliss; and purge yourself of self-denial,

inflict on me, as I on you; and in summary we'll spread allowance thin; defeat

in your eyes comes easy and the hardship lies in reveling in our pasts

A one-night stand; a sour pill without water to swallow it; the bitterness

Of death, how come we come unrestrained and without order; why do we manage

to let ourselves be distanced from one another; it is the corporeal punishment,

Sin's return, and the ecstasy of growth and self-denial purged; I want you

To take me underneath the well and drown me in the blood of your ritual sacrifices;

help me see the light of purgatory's extent; and help me grow in breath and

substance; to the calling of the moon and its begotten ones.

We will share a bed tonight; and I will let you undress me, let your curiosity

bleed ; to ebb and flow like the tide, touch me. And make the moments count;

our vast array of time, let's spend it watching each other's bodies move;

There's nothing dirty upon this sacred hill; all mentions of sex have been

Purified; it is a sanctimonious affair; spread out at length, with legs raw

and bare; each caress and kiss swept over with a fever of lust; and every eye

movement; as if to grab, as if to hold onto what is truly ours;

In this deep well, where hell has no opinion; our burial ground

So let it last, this moment in my arms; as if it would last forever; and take

into your heart my own; and love me. So that the seed may bear a witness of

the truth of everything; from the top of our heads to our toes, our nakedness

Completely exposed to each other's eyes; and when we grasp at forms in the

Morning's sunlight, there'll be ghosts when we look out the window; and nothing

is any longer real; these were merely shadows playing tricks, love, at last,

is an envelope filled with stones; to heavy to send.

I'd like you to hold me under the water; until my face loses the delicacy of life,

and stretch my hands out as if I were posing for a crucifixion; nude beneath the

water's surface, I will lie on my back and watch the stars descend on me

Love is cruel and complements my figure; the divinity of love, in its last blur

You can't come where I will go; my soul is guided to the western shores; and at

the beach's end, I'll let you go; like a shadow with no more meaning than a fly,

Reduced to naught; I'll not even wave my hands at you, so simple a marriage

Love is simple, not kind; not fruitful and to be multiplied; I rest my arms against

the sea's tidal stream, and close my eyes to the beauty of this life; there's no

more wandering, when I'll be free and sent to other shores; to dream the everlasting

We'll make marks again; one day, but for now the calm has claimed me;

We'll bake bread and call upon the gods to bring us into deliverance, but not now;

now is the supper for one, and if you tried to join; you'd make your presence known

And the keeper of the peace would wake; and send you on your way, there's little

Left of love to transcend, what was given in the lightness of our being was not

enough to bring you back; what was the kindness you have wrought within your wake,

Sleeps now; and forever holds her peace.

My open womb bleeds, and I wish you to carry out the sentence; one hand upon

my leg and another on my shoulder; pin me. Force yourself inside of me and

bury the child for which I crave, a little longer now and I will be your

Slave; dressed in black silk and carrying our canopy; down the hill

Out of doors, we'll sleep beneath the sky; holding ourselves deep within

the burial of each other's arms; as if death were looming on the wind;

Impatience draws me into you; the little light of virtue keeps me near,

And in order to thank the gods; I make myself clear that there will be

no introduction of violence, once I've come to term; it will be a peaceful

delivery ; a blessing and a curse combined, and I'll swaddle her in iron

Bars, and make a grave for the two of us; excluding you, your love's

Forbearance and your ecstasy's denial; tested and turned to the limits,

I'll leave you to pray; to the gods, we'll let you swarm your visions

and seize within your complaining heart; while insanity breaks you

Like a dead thing; torn apart.

This static star; without the bleeding out of life, creeps into my mind; and everlasting

star, birthed through fiction; unreal and unspoken of, it lies dormant in my mind's edge;

where the distance between us fades; its perfect glare begins; unmovable remnant

Of death; the non-destructive phase of a dying sun

You hold my hand, but I look the other way, without love; without affection's kiss,

I dare you to make love to me; within this false feeling of a lover's embrace;

and as we exchange looks, I give you nothing in return; as we go down to bed;

There is an emptiness gnawing at me; and you cannot put it out with your advances;

So if you can, I beg you; end this love affair and change the shadow of your call

to scoop up someone else's tender cares; there is nothing in me to scream the passion

of love; it is bitter necessity that keeps me tied to you, the emblem of something

Dead and static; like my sun.

Come to me with slow and steady arms; like a machine, take me in your hands;

I don't feel like hot, passionate lovemaking; I want a cool and steady trip,

the night is young; and I'll let myself free for a moment; but not for you,

I'll be trapped in someone else's fantasy; letting myself free,

Entangled in the luxury of restless dreams, I want slow and steady hands to

caress my body; as I lay down, fully in your grasp and let you have me;

Beneath you, I will writhe and I will let myself free; for a moment.

And under your gaze, I'll let my eyes close and drift off to someone else's

dream; an echo in the cavern of the soul; so bleeding lust that I won't

hear your gnawing or your violent screams of pleasure; I'll block them out

Seizing what is mine beneath these sheets; a dead star, hopeful to resurrect

Love through your flesh and through the violence of our sins; to let you go

from my mind, and let the cravings begin; And in this tension of depleted

love, I'll give you the flesh without the heart; I'll keep that for my own

And you can have the meat and bone besides.

My lust fulfilled, and fantasy purged; two grains of salt into the fire,

and the ashes scattered upon my doorstep; no more memory of you, no more

complaints to roll me over in the darkness of the night; it is a washed

Cloth, ready for my bedside; and I will hold no memory of the night we had

Between these sheets; just a fast sleep, dragging me under and into shadows;

so when we say goodbye, let this be the last time; and when we kiss, there will

be no feelings left within it; just the dry touching of the lips

No moisture, and no forgiveness; I will purge our wedding night from memory.

Be still, and sleep; and let the shadows watch us toying with ourselves;

while we roll over, restless as the night wears thin; and you can come

and watch me; as I succumb to my desires, playing with my vacant self

Devoid of what was once an open, endless chasm of love;

What fractured sentiment has washed you away from my eyes, and left me dry;

I do not know the reason; but inside is a fullness of emotion I haven't

held before; and I don't need your touch, and I don't need your words;

So speak clearly and concisely your intention; do not make it vague

And I will act in accordance with this dance I've learned; its movement;

its impossible array of wordless statements, and I will show you the way

to my heart is by withholding your need for my affections.

We write each other in all capitals; at length, the words of our passion and

delivery, the song of our hearts as it transcribes into text, and I place you

on a pedestal in my mind; it is this slow insistent force which binds us up

In love, and it's the consistent practice of our desires; purged out in text

Which keep us writing on, And as we ebb; the tide goes under ; and we fail

to force the meanings of our lies, our deceptive symphony ostracized; cannot

conception of a fact lie somewhere in between; with fiction's grip buried

In the middle of a sentence; and what words would you choose to place

When hearts break but souls are mended; what gripping stars could reach

our destiny, then when we lapse in reason; and pick a place for falling

There is the rhythm of an emptiness within me; there lies the reason

For my insanity, and I make waves against the opening of my womb, and piece

together broken stitches; after all the blood lets loose, will you then;

take me for your bride, and touch me deep inside; without your hands

On mine; without kissing and without the disparity of making love;

Just tension's release and the calling of the angels as they sing; no more

mystery of the heart, and no more purging of emotion; just a symphony of

flesh, purchased on a dead star; pouring out my love for no one;

And asking little in return.

We grasp at each other's flesh; clawing at the eyes, and make each other blind;

it's the sad truth of this relationship, we're always needing to damage one another;

And as lust collapses into the stagnant state of death; I find myself bleeding

Needing to fulfill my desires through other means; sin beckons me, and I whisper

in your ear the countenance of truth; foretold. I long for the arms of another

woman; and for her sentiments to be truthful ; I need to purge her innocence

As I've done to you.

Without the claim of love's conception; and its gnawing urge, without the warm blood

of its derisive flame, to hold me deeply infatuated by the eyes and the ghostly warmth

I feel empty and obscure; like some bad fashion gone out of style

And the angels, with their pursed lips and candles couldn't hold my flame; it is

extinguished and dead; I need youth, I need transferral and the body of a young

white bride; captured in pure aesthetic perfection; I need to feel wanted

And there are so many I have held, who couldn't suffer me, nor I them

Because this ride is but a fantasy of truth; an ecstasy unfulfilled; with regular

reconceptions that have no hold; they rust and they settle to the bottom

So time turns, and the ticking never ceases; while I remain impure

Slowly growing older, slowly settling like the rust; death becomes me.

Four more years, before we test our state of affairs; while in this journey,

we ride; we rise and fall with the tide, seeking solace and a lost dream;

some white and pure fantasy come unfulfilled on the clouds of dark descent

Rain blossoms, and your sinful eyes purge themselves of lover's blood

While I crest and rise to the top of this severed love affair; bleeding red

and holding onto your dead heart, laughing for a spell; I cause you pain

and it isn't enough to calm the lust within my mind, lover; you must

Sacrifice yourself to keep me whole; because I'm bent on this destruction

Of a world, so sayeth the book of our god; when one can wander this far

to the edge and not fall; how much further, before the end; when winter's

light transcends the truth and every poison of the heart can bleed

Will you bring me your transparency; and spill yourself into me; my love

Dressed like a criminal, I carve the scenery of our minds and reconstruct

the pain I've felt in you, into your flesh; carved and bleeding flesh,

obscured passages of god transcribed upon your skin; in ink,

Permanent reflections of what we could have been;

My eyes have seen your weathered face reduced to tears, so go forth and

suffer me a little longer; regulate the pain, reduce your reconceptions

of the world to bitter flakes of envy; steel your heart

And I will build a castle for the both of us.

I am death; every inch of my flesh lies dormant and unfulfilled, I breath myself

into your lungs; in a kiss, swelling you with the desire to cradle me, yet I feel

nothing as we exchange body fluids; and you wrap me in your arms to say goodnight

There is a hole in me, this dormant stain of death; needing to be filled

But nothing can capture my essence; no aesthetic form will move me, I am death.

And in this bleeding reduction of my fantasies, reduced to purely intoxicating form;

there is a harsh silence at the center of this liquid drop, my soul;

If I could allow you to enter in; expose myself, my weakness and my want

Perhaps there, I could retain a measure of my humanity, perhaps then I could spill

my secrets and let you devour me whole; to move me like a river flows; but instead,

I sink down to the bottom of the well; and hold my tongue inside me,

And let the waters caress my form; let the toxic smell sink into me ;

Death is my true love;

And in this denial of ecstasy, I give my everything to her; she can't touch me yet,

but I can place my heart in her care; and I can give myself over to her; to caress

And kiss me, through the remainder of my violent summer.

The clear conception of your face, and the brittle nature of the skin's last

leftover breath; I weave you through my mind and leave out every flaw, drawing

you perfect and fleshing you out with the visions of my past lovers;

You are complete and perfect, and unreal; the fiction of my love

And as we migrate through the straw of sunken dreams; piecing together our

largely imperfect realities into myths and fables; I stand you there; the

perfect princess of my desired love, and watch you unfold in my fantasy

With lovely grace, you draw me in; and I want to be you; I want to

Embody your perfection; we could be twins, and lovers; an incestuous match

brought down by the gods; and we'll sing to them our praises and offer

sacrifice of flesh, we'll turn our bodies into gifts for the gods

And we'll offer them our pain, and our corruption; through the desecration

of our forms, we'll bring our love to new heights; it will be a beautiful

destruction of the flesh, and when we're done when our bodies lay wasted

And unused; I'll flee from this consumption of ecstasy, and find some new

Fantasy to sink my teeth into; some wakeful dream of the discordant sort,

and breathe a life into its pulsing veins; and dither it to my dissatisfaction.

The rhythm of my beating heart, and how it becomes corrupted;

how we fold into different categories of woman; and how I ease

your passing with the sunset; how you speak to me in rhythms

Of dance, of destruction; of change, how I would bleed myself

To watch you give it all away, and purge yourself of your

destructive lies; I would give my life to see it through

Wondered ever after, slowly; why it couldn't be you I loved

While in the time of consequence, you bore me another child;

and I loved her as I loved myself; but then she died, at four

And there was a cold wind at the door, scraping at its hinges

wanting to be let in; and I could hear her voice like thunder

Ghosts never sleep; they stay up late, haunting the remains

Of what their death has becomes; and so I hold my tongue and

wait for the rivers of death to claim me; this torture never

ceases; and in the end, I'll pick up the shadows of myself

Bowing to the goddess of death;

And let her come, let her try to take me; it will be a pleasurable

existence; to wrap her in my arms and take her filthy kiss

beneath my skin.

To take myself; to breathe a little easier, and to be cold forever; within the grip of death;

to let her divine providence rule over me; in the state that now surrounds me; this quietude

of origins, and as we lie; naked and untouched beneath a golden sky; I keep the canopy

From falling down, I weigh myself with a bit of iron, and I shield what's left of an

Emotional glare; the sun won't brighten, it won't surface any more against the backdrop of the

moon; and so this last break of day, may we let it be goodbye; between us, nothing else matters

except the bleeding of our eyes, and the letting go of someone; who was loved.

There are gates to heaven and hell; and there are gates to other worlds; the long silence

Draws up the shore; and lets me know my passage, too much longer the night stands,

and not enough the day to temper steel; to temper oaths, to temper the big dreams

of little girls; so when I see you coming like a knight in shining armor, I know it's not you;

And there was a big explosion in the heavens, and rain of fire came bleeding through the sky;

And the old coats came, the old men wearing hoods; to see the difference between me and

their goddess of the sun; but of course, I am prettier; even though they hadn't spoken

since their arrival, I knew theirs was a go between; something unreal; something that

Mattered.

A measure of your kiss; a momentary glimpse of your reduction into the constraints

of starlight, I wash your hair in the sea water; and bless your eyes that you may

see your light; shining on the winter's wind, and opening up my heart,

Too long have I sat in the shadows of obsessive infatuation; and too long have

The open doors consumed me; let's stop this idle craving; and continue on when

life has blessed us with some better fate than this; chaos and consumption of the

soul, does little more than spread the mind's confusion and order in another

Dose of depression; to disperse the rotten seed throughout my womb's tender edges

What hurts more; is your impression, left in the stone walls; and my obsession,

as I tear apart brick by brick your construction; looking for love's lost signal

flare; what can the night call, if not for impotence and confusion, breasts bare

And the lonely hold of one woman, too afraid to open the doors and see again

When will the night be compared to the offspring of my flesh, and when will evil

begin to make its mark in my skin; when will breath cease and leave a reaction

in my skin; and when will the chaos come; to seize the bitter parts of me

I dare not see; so close the blinds and enter, I haven't any help for you; my door

Has been shut for too long; and there's bitter black blood where there should be

beauty's unfinished mark; dressed with fine silk and raised up where the angels

can attest to the refinements of a woman; there should be beauty's mark.

You won't wake up cold, love; you won't wake up at all, we'll leave the breathing

to the lifeless ones; who have no care for the intimacies of love's last quest;

It's time for folding over the pages of our insanity; it's time for a resurrection

Of ideas, to staple them into the holy text, an easy edit; a simple patchwork

And to transgress against the old men wearing scarves, and their apostles; the

remnant of a body of God, deceased and longing for any single swath of death

To touch their mind; and in their anger and frustration, we'll sew their bodies up

Into our patchwork revelation bible; so sworn to lay the plans of New Jerusalem's

coming; it is coming from the clouds of our unconsciousness; and i is coming soon;

Birthed by a fold in time ; twisted by the hands of two lovers, rejecting space

as their entanglement; and as for the future of our disease; we find comfort

Here, among the stars you know nothing of, and here; we'll bleed our minds with

the single use of LSD carved upon our spines; we'll take apart ourselves and spread

The fabric thin; and test the cavities of our work, if it will hold.

What love can create ; through the blossoming of its delegated stars, through rough

patches; burning up with the fever of the sun, I want to walk this path again;

to turn my eyes into the blinding light, and have a seizure ; sing in the significance

Of sin, and purge our latent lies; and contemplate arrest of the mind's pathways

And into purgatory's flow, find solace and redemption in the hollow boundaries of the

skin's folds; to let the passion of the night complete our insatiable appetites;

Only love, in the truest sense of flesh's desire; can reduce my feelings of emptiness

and send the demons of my mind reeling through their whimsical flight of fancy,

And as we curse the stars for being born; as we breath in the absence of our lust

I hold the shadows close to me; I create my enmity with God, and stick the knife

into my wounded heart; oh, ceaseless stream of remembrance; come clear to me,

and send me under the table to find my diamond bracelet; my beads of purity

So I may sweep them further into this darkness; further from my eyes

Reducing my innocence, and planting the seeds of passion and fury; too much sentimental

scouring of the hills, without you in my arms; without the gnawing bite of obsession's

desire, and without the calling rhythm of a distant doorbell, regular intervals

Pinging slowly and patiently through a storm of passionate flame,

The page goes on; and the shadows cease their swimming, in the night's air,

there's nothing left of magic or of the triumphs of a little girl,

beckoning her lover's hand to reach out from the depths of utter darkness.

The ecstasy of our deliberation; at its final cut, when the grass still stood

at full attention and the shadow's drop lay heavy on my hood; I can conceive;

Of worlds beyond this drip of blood; as earth is but a shadow in some larger

Field of light; I wish you could surrender your birth to me; let me hold you

in, as if you were my child; to cradle you inside me, without the warmth

of some exterior venue, to take away our pleasantries; to exchange our grievances

Do you recall the moment's first bite when we crossed paths, its grating

Exchange of death; the emptiness within you, I wanted to know the truth of

what you were made of, and how the hollowness of your transcribed reduction

of the self had claimed your eyes; this holy purging of a life worth living

Without the sentence of a mind who'd gotten past, the rhythms of the daysong

And the night's bleeding edge, how long you've held within your echo of my voice.

Too long have I wandered without the twin to tempt me, the violent regression

of a similar suicide; two more panes of glass between us; and let this stand

A body to our isolation; no more lips' resistance feeding death, and no more

Bodies writhing in a bed of ecstasy; our deliberation has ended, and with it

comes the purging of our thoughts; no more dreams of silence, no more life.

Within the shadow of our doubting eyes; we see the veins constricted, restricting

blood flow to our brains, as ever after has become a thing of dreams and our

sickness plagues our vision; we can't receive what's coming after until we've

Made our fortunes bare; so similar our discontenting hearts, so sad and

Ill; without the sentiments of love and laughter's song; as I play my memory's

reconstruction of tomorrow's vacant lies, and laugh ; a bit maliciously into

the deep well of our sorrows; hold me under until I cannot breathe,

Collapse my lungs and purchase for yourself some small victory over me;

With this season's prescription for pain, I offer you little left of love's

resolve; just a beating warmth of the heart; love of flesh's folds, to strike

a chord in you; no spiritual harmony or reconstruction of the self as stated

Fact; no dance with the devil, no measure in the passions of my eyes;

Just a simple latitude of breath; some pleading substance asking for your touch,

without the cold, hard touch of death; to make the feelings bleed.

What bleeds, when the knife fixates on my skin; when the mind fixates on my death

and in the silence of my loneliness, I split my head; and the demons rush in with

voices, and the deconstruction of my life becomes reality; as I claim no solution

To end this pain. Is it love that heals; because I've only found destructive love,

The kind which makes you high, for a while; then bottom out, too deep lies the

depression that I sink into, to bear; so I make due with prescription pills and

raindrops on the edge of my knife; cutting is my final endurance test,

To see how far the pains can bring me under; and burning myself with the edge

Of a lighted flame, how much can one withstand before withdrawal; I close my eyes,

and gring my teeth against each other's better grip; while I think of you, slowly

closing my eyes at the funeral, and the procession of the dead; as they walk me,

Slowly into the hell that I was born to embody; sisters of chaos and corruption,

And when I see you, my heart leaps; still.

The sentence reveals a shadow of my soul; the darkness bleeding through the page,

black ink separating skin from fiction, and as I write the words of my entrapment,

each paragraph lies; each statement of creation builds a deeper picture of my

Insanity; the mind in broken shards, as we consume the holy order of the stars,

In the rhythm of my bleeding cavity; I grow cysts beneath my dress, and in my hair

are ashes of the dead; I am death personified, the corruption of youth's passage

through an ordinary flight of fancy; I seek out the scripture's fulfillment; and

Curse God; lifting up my dress, to reveal the stains of my pleasure's sins

And pain's resistance to the fury building up within the contours of my heart;

help me even out the strain, subdue the lock's fixture and retain a bit of youth's

distinct sentiment of innocence, help me see through clear blue eyes

The weather's sentence; the rain's death as it falls from heaven like many angels

Pipe the song of travesty, with me. And when we've beaten death; once we've

risen from the contours of our soul, and formed new flesh to clothe us; speak now,

And forever hold the peace which lies within you.

Our permanent transference into sin's uncovered house; the exposure of our lies

revealed to each other; and to God, and now the quietude of death sinks in slow;

I will always remember the smile upon your face, at the first sentence of our flame,

That moment we birthed our hopeless and swift grating feature of the heart,

and now I cry when I'm alone; and in your arms I'm lifeless, like a doll left

hanging from the arms of her loved one; a corpse without a case to carry her

When the flame still flickered, and when the body bled; at night between the sheets

My mind unwrapped itself and stuck into your skin, my urge to reduce my sanity

to this; construction of a body lifeless and alone, I wanted to know what love's

taste was, but not the drying temperament; not the cold dissolving into nothingness

We placed our bodies in strange positions; it seemed so natural, these constrained

Reductions of the flesh, it felt surreal to let desire's flow roll through the body;

and to react, and to enslave each other's flesh for the remainder of our lustful act;

to reduce to base desire; each and every pulse and gasp for breath

To know each other's wants; to purge ourselves.

We'll let the winds carry us on, into the western lands; where we can see a bit of

magic tumbling through the clouds; and as we speak, the moment dry and soothing;

I will remember this last dance with you. For I am folding up my wings, to no longer

Carry me abreast; silent nights await me, and the loneliness; the emptiness of form

I will remain hidden in this world, for no one to reveal my full exposure, a virgin;

left to wander through the ages, and through my own internal clock to recognize the

laughter of God; pressed down upon the winds, my own unique currency

And I will dance naked on the beach; for only the clouds to gaze upon my form,

And with a restless eye, I'll wander; scraping hands with passers by; and exchanging

words with them, to ease my loneliness; which burns inside of me, I cannot keep

safe from the dangers of the earth, but in heaven's light; it will change me.

The burden of the stars as they gaze on, and the serenity stuck deep within my veins,

Flows like the water to the bath, pours out of me; in exchange for life, a life;

and death will handle the pieces of its solitude, I can comb my hair with the brush;

but it won't make it any more or less perfect, in beauty's simple strength

When all the world has ended and only the pieces of God's witnesses remain,

To purge; and to flood the temples with their songs, I'll leave them to their call;

I have another duty, and there is within me another message to be birthed, it is

the same age old message from the beginning of the earth;

Lost in the belly of my whale, as she extends her head into the clouds;

to see us off in dreams, to capture the collective unconsciousness of death's

great schism; I burn for her words, and I walk the innocent pathway

Surrender and reserve me now; collect in my abandonment the cradle of my birth

There's too much resolution and not enough story to unfold; there's certainty

of death, and with it lies the claim of resurrection; four children doomed at

birth with false conceptions of the world, four innocents restricted in their pain

And as the past rolls up its mat; as schizophrenia melts the model of the sun;

Broken assemblages of speech; making craters on the moon as if two redundant paths

could proceed in tandem to recreate the aesthetic perfection of a goddess, dressed

in white lace and satin ribbon; there is a space between our reunion and the dead

With lesser travels on our own for deadly bodies to observe our passage;

Sink within the oceans; and come aboard, there is enough of plain laughter; enough

to purge the recreation of our childhood; too many lives worth remembering;

In a small canister; in the depths of the earth, buried before the forms of God

There lies a woman, undressed ; a virgin from her birth, and she will claim

the inheritance of the kingdom when she is unearthed. Glory to God in the highest,

And pieces of his shadow remain unfolded; where death lurks, you will see Him coming.

The season's light surrender, as the sun breaks through the evening's end;

while we are contemplating life's bleak passage into dusk; I gave you what

I could, before the bending of the earth collapsed my shadows

And here, in the silent phrases of my heart's denial, I expose my weakness

Too faint an echo to be heard by the sirens; too shallow a phrase to be

denied passage; and in these wanting eyes, I feel death's sour pulse arise;

When want of season's change, between the forefinger and thumb; to leave

A sliver in the skin; a reminder of our last draft of purity and innocence,

dissolved in the epistemologies of death; I rise, and slowly enter into

the depths of our destruction, will you follow me; here within the hour

Of our compromising laughter; love is taut and ready, while we divide

The lasting breath of hours; salvation comes in gasps, and the blood runs

thin; I want you here, in the chamber of echoes; to subdue my heart,

love is taught by the ancients, in volumes bled through with fading ink;

Its lasting purpose, its remainder in the skin; is desolation.

lost in a cloud

with static electricity

shaking the table

there's too much tension

stripped of my emotive cause

you're really turning me on

the science of unfulfilled desire

the letting go of a heart's span

a violent disturbance

sexual chemistry

the bizarre

and the need to purge

silence's forgotten features

and remembered quantities

the cosmology of orbital arrangements

skeptic stars

there, you are my poem

Our novel, unwritten scraps of torn and shredded paper, a collage and a despised

collection of entry-level work; I need to piece it all together before the assembly

of the Most High; there with a transferral, we'll save this grace and end up

With the cluster of gravitation on our backs; burning like the angels of the daylight,

Some, it would seem; could contaminate the whole in resurrection's soft spin of death

and rebirth, and I will say of our institution; my what gravity collects to fill

our burning sun; and when the date hold water of the remembered past; two suns spin

Into an early death; but there's a silence and a flame in that collapse

And as we spin into destruction's path, some blooming part of me tears a hole into

the structure of our death and comes out bleeding; she needs a bath to fill her cavity;

and when the reconstructive work is finished, she holds her head low; and in shame

She welds her flame, and her torch burns with the lightness of love's refrain

And though I want to enter into this deceptive smile, and share your bed with you;

collapse beneath the canopy you've spread to block out all the stars, I die of thirst

And this wouldn't be the first time that I've fallen

Each moment, and in each living breath I take into my lungs; I whisper your name,

between clenched teeth; I've fallen, and there's no refrain of laughter or of joy;

Only sorrow's bent claims this insanity.

This is the seduction of my sanity; hold me over where no bridge spans; and

into the distance I will raise my tender voice, and compare the seasonal retreat

to some forgotten gods; as if they had weighed their voice upon my ruin

While you were spending time beneath your sheets, I was praying to the old gods

And in your bed, the lyric rises; beneath these filthy sheets the bare skin

fleshes out her comfort, in this bed there is a dirty secret; hidden and intangible

My arousal perks me up; and I do a little dance to fill the wind with song

My life and your comfort, hiding in the shadows of a looming thought, too drunk

for passage into the deeper caverns, wherein seduction lies like a blooming star;

We'll purge you of your sinful beacon, rising in the west; we'll bring you

To your knees and bury you in a pillow's resting place; sound asleep with dreams

of masturbation hanging on the foreground of your mind, we'll walk into the room

as you dissolve; sugar into cubes, drowning in coffee at room temperature

This bleak eye, the weary passage; wandering youth's pilgrimage to explore

What territories lie undiscovered in her breasts; and in her eyes, it's the false

widow wandering that leads the mind astray, it is the legal dissolution of her

dress; form and function fit for her discomfort, fit for the obstruction of the eye,

Too many forces flitter on the wind, and one calls her name, the heir of injunction.

In the fields of our solicitation, we can capture purity's essence in the moonlight;

while sweet, serene redemption comes from the bitter tears of bloodshed; and in unity's

perception of our lives, we linger on; defeating the cold, collective skin of

Dying suns; the breath of dragons in the furnace of our insanity's reflected stain

I hope you sleep well; little dreamer, and find some peace of mind (I know I won't);

to keep you cool in this hot summer day, with lungs dead and old; deceased signs

of winter's calling; I can reason there will be worse days coming, before our final

Death; before we rise into the sun as spirits to be burned in an afterlife of pain

What more do we hope for, than to enter into our union; and purge ourselves of this

emotive skin; rest now, and forever find your peace of mind, lest our insanity of

love drive you mad with desire; lest the house which I have built for you collapse

And winter drive you out, with force; to tally you among the weak

But as days grow cold; I'll wave your flag out in the yard, and stamp your name

upon my skin, where birds will flock; and I will feed them beauty and youth

Our holy grail, brandished with the fire of our love; two coins

A bald eagle spearing a serpent; I wish to know more of your mind, I wish to touch

each fossilized core of your beautiful mind; and make the body burn with fire,

to claim your ashes for my wine; I'll mix them fully in, and drink a heavy dose.

The chaos of a storm collected in my memory, two tones; red and black, our soul's

uncovered truth, it lies in the ages of past languages; buried beneath the rock

of ancient gods, and we caress its core; its magnitude, with the salt of the earth

You are watching me unravel time; while wanting some cruel god divulge her fantasy

And we constrict our passage way, as a blatant reconstruction of our time spent

holding onto pages of the past; if you were here, within my arms; I would reason

molesting you this hour, without judgement to call us off from our conception

And as we walk through shadows, playing parts of a messy rendition of a romance

I seize your arm, and cut; let the blood pool under you. Take this and drink,

it is an everlasting plague, handed down through the ages for artists and poets

to drown their sorrows in; take this body of hers, and eat; this is the newborn

Child, without home or mother; without passage into the afterlife, eat her flesh

It is the covenant I give to you; whether it be sacred in the eyes of God, or

an accursed thing; you must remember her name. And without an honest reflection

of who I am or where I've come to; I eat.

I unclothe myself so you may see my true form;

how I bleed beneath my dress, and when winter

comes, I purge necessity while sleeping in your

arms; it isn't long before I come.

And then, in dreams

I flee to some escape grown in the clouds,

my burial awaits me with open arms; and they sing

your name in heaven; because you hold my remains,

If there is a God; and if this last stretch of faith

brings a resolution point; to bear me on open wings,

Let your name be stitched into my breast, and this date

forever sealed within the mind; two lovers left with

Broken seals, fighting to retain an air of dignity,

once closed and never forgotten; once born, never departed

Sign this lowly rhythm in your heart, and let the feelings

swell. Deep within the breast, where your good fortune lies;

Let this gradual decay of flesh hold our {love}.

To ruination, and into a sea of plague and the building up of death;

I hold my camera at the right angle to capture your face as you fall,

not holding out my arms; because I've been restrained from touching you,

There is no after world between our sheets; no cold surrender in our bed

Every night is silence, and every day the carrying of voices once said;

I challenge you to let your silence come, and fear to pass through you,

while you stand still and remember the faces of those who loved you,

It isn't long before the night retracts; and seizes up its inheritance,

So don't count yourself among the many it has slain through desperation,

desire; and plague.

Emotions run high, and then the lightning comes; and the tears, the desolation

For one breath against another; for the kiss of death to seep into your lungs,

I'll take your hand, against the weathered sentence of my word; and guide you

under and beneath this bridge; to hold you while the midnight purges

And as for breath, we'll savor this; even if it comes to our redemption or our

death, we'll call the apple blossoms to remember us; and see the things which

burn beneath the mind's forgotten ledge; we'll watch shadows as they tumble

And piece together the wilderness of dew drops; and seize the pieces of intrinsic

songs of night; as the path completes and the one that doesn't sleep arises.

The blank slate with no boundary lines; a clean escape into the shallow portion

of the night, and although you're wanting to transpire and let your hair down

softly; I will make a motion against your scenic overview of life; and press in

Against your soft, silken hair; there's too much of death's stillness lingering

on the surface of the sea; will you take me back inside, will you hover over me,

protect me from the demons in my mind, and take a casket; put it in a basket,

weld it shut against my face; there's never any blood in the slow suffocation

Of a body; of a self, of a dreamer lost in the darkness; what have I become;

There is a noise which comes from the complaints of old gods; where I stand against

the hollows of a cave, and howl; let us howl tonight, lover; in the midst of this

Womb, we'll take our vows and carry them with us through the ends of the earth

My dark suffering, and your persistent pains; we'll cradle each other whole,

piece by piece fit together in unseemly aesthetic form; I'll shelter you beneath

The cave's lip; we'll dive into the pool as the fossils rise, and say our prayers

Beneath the moonlight; for gods and men to hold us responsible for the midnight

call of death; and there we'll sing the triumphant call of awakening; to the beasts,

Those demons; in my eyes.

You took the fruit, between teeth and into your mouth;

our secret love; our holy word, filled with anticipation,

so scattered the seeds, and so lost is the heart in this

translucent sky; buried breath comes alive, and death

Finds a reason to fear the outcome of our rehearsed infusion

And a tale, wrapped in snake skins and eagle feathers;

and the courtesy of our ill designed intentions, while we

wait; the angels play their harps, while we contemplate

God.

Restricted in what words we are allowed as sustenance;

divine surrender holds us near enough to touch, but distance

becomes the magnetic pull of our desire; a wrapped

aesthetic slumber

Motion, and the silence of our quaking hearts; ill contentment

and the internal dance of fire, breath comes unnaturally cold;

Your body infused with the wine of the gods.

You speak of ancient gods, and the foretold prophecies of ages past;

within this steady reconception of their passing I give you life eternal,

tested on the wings of angels, as they sleep; I give you my body

And as we come into the darkness of our centerfold; I let these feelings

Slip between my lips, and let you know the feelings which drive me;

into the sadness and destruction of my sphere; cold eyes and buried

narcissism, pleading with my veins to let the blood pass out

And I give you to drink, the plain flow of a regretful dream; purse

Your lips and drink; set your tone in silence and be grateful; not many

have entered here where you are, and fewer yet have stayed the path

Unless we will forget each other's names; and carry out a sentence of death,

carry on with me, into this shadow of a feast; our soul's collection

That dreams of ecstasy may be realized through a passage of forms and symbols

Let love's last empathy cry out upon the planes of our redemption,

so that tonight, in the bitter foil of our dissolved recreation we may sing;

Holy, holy, holy; are the gods, of past and future kings; and blessed be

The one who comes in their name; when fortunes are cast, and the kings of the

earth migrate to their separate stalls; and when the evening comes, and we're

alone and making love between the statues of the damned.

Your eyes come alive, and there's a knocking at my door; too many fragrances to know

whose contemplative sores these come from, and I worry; and I wear your badge upon my

wrist; this iron clasp to seal my fate with yours; and we won't die necessarily;

There may be an afterlife, after all; and when all is said and done, our sins may be

Forgiven; but let's not hope for fantasy, dig into the earth and dream of the here,

and the now; what future may be is forgotten in an hour's length; let this passion

play upon the heart, and let it move like the serpent of the deep waters

Dress ourselves in lace; we'll clothe ourselves in satin, and escape

Each sentence which awaits us is in truth a lie; there is a bottom to the pit, I have

seen it emptied of all my demons; even if only for a momentary glimpse of what commands

the dark; I want to pluck you, from the tree of good and evil's knowledge;

And to eat your flesh, and drink your blood; you will be my desire.

And though innocence fade; and though a fraction of my life will be shattered, I dredge

up lies and suicide notes, to notice your figure and complete your curves; I want to

Trap you in sunlight and bathe in your reflections;

And dress myself to suit your features; let myself be known without a hint of grace,

I'll measure your cup, and empty your eyes of their liquid pools; I thirst to see

Heaven's awful stare; among the shadows of your bare skin, and bruised heart.

Transfigured shadows, standing in the eye of the beholder; with desolation

as their character, they rise up; within this hollow world, I can see your

face poised to strike a chord within my being; I can't resolve whichever

Turn of your head I would rather see; the innocent or the corrupted youth

Guided by the darker powers; there's something inside of me longing to touch

this severed part of you, the black hole of innocence lost; the purgatory's

chains, twisted and revolting chains of love's last drink of ecstasy

Come back into my room, and we will hollow out the night; come closer to me,

And we will feed upon the remainder of the daylight; it's dripping love and

sweat, as it revolves around the chaos of contemptuous lust and passion,

Or is it

Love's compassion, and the purging of ideas; to create growth, and dissolve

pain's substance from our wombs; I could feed off the darkness within you,

and let the hand of silence stay its wait; let passion as a last resort

Come into play; plus love's canopy embrace the cold and enter into being

Patience, honor; virtue's song surreal, can ease the pain; without the need

for darker stillness to consume our life, we can wait for morning to come;

bathe in a sea of ecstasy and shadow; and let the green grass mourn us

As we take into the field; to carry on our song of relief from sorrow.

My eyes have become blind to the world; and all I see is your face, bleached

into my memory's container; the perfect compromise of truth and betrayal,

and sin; threatening to leave me open and vulnerable; to the death of me

You hold in your hands a piece of me, my blood and my flesh; dissolved

And put into a pill. Swallow. Drink and be satiated; let go your anxiety,

and eat; it will be a feast for our remembrance; this day, ages from now,

they will recall the lightness of our works, and our breath will be scattered

Into the wind; so many lies mistaken for pure truths, so much reconstruction

Passed for the purity of a single stroke of beauty, in your eyes there is an

effigy of a place we could call home; in the shadows of the mind, lingers a

thought; a reason for existence, and too much blood entwined with anger's

Solemn song; too much memory of our last dance; becomes the reason for our

Split in the ice, the chasm of our calamity; drink now, and seize this blessed

patience of my soul; there is not much left I have yet to offer, and if you

can come clean; if you can let go of the insanity of life, and put this pill

Into your stomach; we'll come out of this alive, I think the gods will smile

And there, in the absence of our death; once the transmission of God fades,

and all the lifeless have been resurrected; there you'll be, and I

With our immunization of love's basket and the will to seize our silent

shadow's breath upon the morning's light.

I will contemplate your works; and save my own for the bending of your words,

in silence I will stutter, as I try to remember your names; and the gods which

you have spoken, too many lives remain untouched by your distant aura,

And the way you dream, while letting go your thoughts into the shadow's fray

I'll walk with you, and we can dream together; and carry out a silent prayer,

told between the two of us; to tempt and to remain a pleasant reminder of ourselves

for twisting words and the bare bones of structure of the Lord; let our

Remainder of days be for shadow's play and silhouettes stretched thin

We'll play in the sun and let desire's feast be satisfied; and come the evening,

we'll take turns in the bath water, resting our flesh and blood; for comfort's

call to evening's retreat within the shadow's play; and our seductive voices

Let our worlds collide within each other's grasp; and put purity aside

You and I, and the ecstasy of our gods' collision with the mind,

we'll paint a structure never seen before; the collusion with Satan's fold

and our own begotten quest for truth in God's incision of the flesh

Make minds query; make the mind an obscure playground.

You are a comfort

to wear your pages of death

about your neck; this unseemly

shadow of gold; and I would hurt you,

And I would make you usher in the bleak descent of death

Swallow you whole,

and leave you restless, in the dark

To where eyes can touch; and dreams are formed

take your descent, and plunge

into the depths of the subconsciousness

where gods swim laps through the stream

and angels relapse and die,

And lust becomes another word for Satan's fury

because the flesh opens easy,

and lets its passion pour out like rain.

The measure of your breasts, as they decide how certain the evening will come;

and tomorrow's light will overshadow the both of us, in dreams of our desires,

I cage myself incompletely; enough to be let out without a key, in discourse

There is an ocean of pain welling up within my veins; and there is blood

Around me, while I sleep and bleed and carry out to term this sentence of death

cradling it nearby; it's a sharp pain and an oscillatory eye, retaining my

perfume; collaging bitter patches of the skin with ivory and gold.

We breed death's corruption, as we stain our house with the blood of the lamb;

and bring in Satan's insecurities; and douse them in flames; I show you the shadow

of my insatiable thirst; for your innocence, for the open wound you let me see

A plain and empty cavity; but with it the scars of your reduction into death

See it, how the violence plays upon your skin; watch the shadows move, watch

death's hunger as it plays games ; upon your skin, and your bones ache from the chill

of my voice, as it overshadows you, and every measure of your breasts

Becomes a sentence, born in fire.

they are the moistened parts of you

your shadow and a flame to rest

our secret and our shame

say it in my ears

behind this canopy of hair

concealed folds of flesh

hidden assemblage of skin

the touch of purity of form

to groans; to whispers in the dark

and the sound of love making

and all the children are laughing

and pointing, with their stares

at the claims of our tepid touch

while we peruse each other's

bonds, and take with us

a turnkey for the vault

you say hell's sentence

with the stroke of your iron fist,

while warming in the shadows

you heard them; running

as I run my fingers through your hair

and we caused the great divide to bloom

you never forms, you never formed, you never

formed this sequence in your lips.

Love is dark

the false bleeding of the eyes; a blindness

without hope of lasting past the first days of its entry,

seasons change, and we lose sight of what we first mused

the tempest grows, and the fury

our deceit lies in salvation's bitter pill

our only hope a seance dressed with song

to lighten days spent in purgatory's chamber

one small breast beating

and lustful visions coincide

with the decay of laughter's sun

there's too much ecstasy for the shadows' will

mostly broken shards

dust the chamber floor; mostly

broken concrete lines the floor

without you holding me

when the dust settles;

I would drink the flood waters,

and bathe in the remains of the unborn

slaughtered for survival of a race

intoxicated with their blood

there's too much death in this tonight

I'm hoping for some reason to let go

there's too many hours in the darkness

to let love grasp my hand again.

Faith is shadows' substance, as we abide by faith's resolve, there comes

a lax intrusion into the curvature of time; and with this shallow mould,

I carve the insulation for our work to be displayed; for the dispersion

Of the human race; through fire and through the corridors of well constructed

Realities; I plant in her a fever, to run over her and into her well-trained

senses; the recourse and the memory which fades; the rehearsed commodity,

a union of spice and grain; and into the darkness where the devil lives,

And damages the skin; the simple pains of truth's relaxation, and the dent

Within our parasitic suture; the revision of the temple, as it waxes gold,

and ivory plates combined with a foot of symmetry and revelation's scorn;

And then there is your kiss; the solid substance of our arms, waiting

There's so much meddling with the truths and focused senses of our reality

to recognize the simple stint of heart; one more dressed rehearsal, one more

cavity of truth's rebellious hold; one more purchase of a negative substance

And as we purge the hollow field of our migration; as we send the shallow

drifts, we'll pull in the ranks of our uncommon ground, and wait; with

Resolute indignation, for the shelter of the wind to carry us into dawn.

The sentence of our death, drawn up in pages of a text;

drawn out with fire, and with the revolutionary sword

of truth; there is a schism drawn between our worlds

And you cannot purge this isolation from my breast

Although you have the comfort I have sought for,

so many years have dreamed of; And I would melt within

your breasts, and this hollowness inside of me

Would shatter into fragments, leaving only the purity

Of true love; to live within my hollow breast,

and cave in against the shelter I have built to

withstand love's regression and sin's impurities

So much frustration at the thought of you; without

your clothes, without the star shining between your

breasts; to be truly exposed to me, without the sun

As your apparel; And I watch the sun diminish to the west

And I watch the evening rise; and the symptoms of a storm

brewing upon the altitudes of the deep waters; a seasonal

migration into snow; and ice, and melting love.

The signs all point to death, and the destruction of our hearts;

where there's no will, to regain the purity lost; no force to

overpower the destructive slide, I want to tear apart my insides

To let the bowels spill out and the veins loose upon the pavement

There will be pain and there will be a bit of blood to show for it,

in my restraint; there is no purely fashioned form to hold back

my love's desire; it spills our on you, and you capture its essence

And it spills out on me; and the two of us entwined in this bath

Of ecstasy, drawing in breaths and gasping for what little air will

come, taking in the whole of our dismembered lives; and breaking

them apart; into fragmentary bars of chocolate; and letting them be

Consumed by the owls; consumed by the feral children; consumed

By the devils making rounds at midnight; and in this holy house

upon the hill, where we make gestures of love's affection and

masturbate to the music of some indifferent air; take notice,

When the dogs begin to bite, and the affections of the night roll

Inward and upon our lost consciousness; found out to be in a flurry

of love's snow, the serene discontinuity of breath which comes alive

in the winter of my mind's rebellious spin.

I'll relapse, and if it's any consolation, there will be blood; I will purge

my veins of any lasting side-effects; I'll drink the death that you provide,

and hope that there will be a compensation in the end; a holy order ordained

And I will be your priestess and your slave; to compromise this living hell

We have arranged, you walk and I; in the shadows of your flesh, I writhe

in flames, burning for you with deep desires; and without touch, without

the face of depth and shadow to arrange interpretation of your skin,

Something right and beautiful could come of this; let's rearrange the floral

Patterns and distance ourselves from the consideration of our sins,

let's burn the longings we've been driven into; there is consolidation,

there is a freedom we lack in suffering; so I give you this single rose

To remember me by; and I give to you a dozen more in memory of our sins,

So burn the pages of our lasting love; and let us build a warmth we can

obtain through lasting trust; through the stain of our absolute discovery

of what lies beneath our clothing, and through the touch of our innocent love.

A strange commotion of inner city traffic; and the lights bleed neon red, when

days can seem to be complete; and the shadow ends everything about you, there's

scratching and clawing at the eyes; and in the brain lies a single thread of

Mercury, enough to raise the living from death; and drive a bullet through their

Skull, too much motion sickness, and when the howling faints into the black;

my life becomes a shadow of your own, turning in the tides in tandem; turning

back when life's become a stagnant sore, there's so much dissonance here

To remain uptight over little, silly things; but I've blown them out of proportion

And remained pursued by lightning bugs and crickets as if they were the devil

himself; each moment is an LSD flashback, a diamond circle of diminished sound

sending the lightning beads into the ground; sending down a rain upon the soil

Substance and matter cost their own amount of blood; and the stain grows larger

while we consume the earth, there's so much love to sacrifice for; so let us

bleed; let us hold out our hands, slit our wrists; and bleed for the proper nation,

When will tomorrow be any different; and why would the sparrow take a gun.

Our severed hearts; born in the valley of lust, and written in the stars;

the two-fold gust and howling of the winds, our alibi to this sentence of a sin,

we reconnect on higher ground, where lightning stalks and the gods play

We never need to remember each other's names; but yours is burned into memory

A stain and a watchful eye, capitulating with the truth of our redemption;

some flavor on the skin, too faint to draw a line and place it in its name,

the foreskin and the fever; two faint discourses of our addendum to a plot

We raise the flag, and not let anyone leave our shores; it is the island of

The catalog for life and death's construction, the two-fold gaze and glare

of every eye upon us; even those who haven't yet been blessed with sight;

the dream lies in the cataclysm of our youth, in simple twists of faith

Oh, you complete the part of me that's been broken; but I fear for our future

And that the broken pieces will remain in shards in the end; just fragments

of a heart left buried and forgotten; how all things come to pass when there

is love involved, so tear it out now; to let the demons settle;

Tear out the remainder of our love, and bury it in a grave; settle it down

Before it's broken half of us, and torn out the will to live in this dark,

foreboding era of a vacant world.

We'll beat our wings against the sun; and fight for the breath of gods,

and sing our permutation of a song long since lost and forgotten in the

texts of ancient worlds; and we'll see fire come up from the earth

and the battling of heavens ; throw down our swords and words, and make

An institution of repentance for the gates to seal up against our sins,

and what everyone knows will be forgotten; and an age of mass production

cease its storm of thunder; I will watch with you as the future unfolds

And we'll bargain for the last reluctant piece of bread to dissolve our

Tears; and we'll make a vat of purified and temperamental wine, to dissolve

our tears; and we'll play angels and gods and demons in the field; drunken

on our vineyard's spoils and I'll be a demon, and you can be the god of ever-

Lasting destruction; and we'll make love beneath the oak tree,

Disturbing all who sleep within its shadow, we'll break branches with our

backs and lie like sainted sorority girls; fainted beneath the shadows of its

lustrous flight into the sun; and we'll dream of peaceful days and nights

Resting in the ashes of our buried plant.

We make better lives without the cost of love's affair; and without the truth

to bear us into the bosom of our sinful purge; we wait, longing for a touch

that will never come; and the rising of our sentence into existence's arms

There's a battered child resting beneath the hood of my car; there is existence

Marked upon her head with heavy ink; and I see the angels laughing, and I hear

them cursing my name upon their tongues, and when the wind blows heavy to the

south; I hear her crying, I feel her voice as deafening as the sunlight is to the eye

Let her shadow go; and crave the blessed sun, burn the bridges of your youth

And take in heavy drink; imbibe and bless the name of God; between each sentiment

you'll hear a whisper of her name as chilled upon the mystic moonlight; and you

will know I watch you drinking heavy drink; wait with me, and see the schism

About to bloom between us; this heavy gorge, waiting to be filled with toxic

Strains of love;

And dashed to pieces, fragmented forms of light and dark; and where the ashes burn

it is our symphony of lust; brought close to the heart, and let out through our

sexual fires; and we will burn in our sanctimonious affair; we'll light our candles

And christen the moment of our birth; with fire, water, wind and earth.

Our lives live long affairs; while our hearts die unnecessary deaths, and in the

interim where Jesus plays the Queen of Hearts, and all the bottoms of the wells

have dried out in the sentence of our summer's sun, and heat blossoms like a star

Shining midway between the destruction of our own; as time collapses the barrier

To breath, and leaves our death alone; I walk into your home and order your

surrender; and you abide by every word, as the dust settles; you take off your

shirt, while I look on and wonder ; just how many lives have seen the insides

Of you exposed. Don't dare deny, there is a fruitful fantasy buried in your

Breasts; and in your skin, it takes the lengthened road to see you wholly exposed,

and I can't stay the while; I will not last the night within your grip, it's

full exposure too bright for my eyes; I must take leave this holiday's constraint

Death in a furlong of reparation; death in the disease that sees our signal flare

While the calls to the outskirts, and the inner garments; leave me wanting more,

and while you wait, watching me with predatory eyes; sedating me with your smell,

and preying on me with those innocent, bright colored eyes; I seek a demon inside

Your soul, and inside my own; and will this demon watch and wait; while tomorrow

is expunged through the desolation of two gateways pouring out their earned

belongings into baskets; and creeping through the door at dusk to deliver

Their purchased price for a night within the shade of a dead sun.

This is an unhealthy schism for my soul; to be trapped within the confines

of your blood; to be a messenger of faith, in the hour of our resolution,

to be confined by the innocent-seeming stark definition of your name;

So hold on tight to me, and there will be shedding of tears before our end;

When everything goes up in flames, and the beginning of time meets the end;

and in our souls' silhouette, we'll bleed shadows and dust and ash; and the

flames of our institution will be laid barren before our eyes; there will be

Rest, and dreams; walks with demons and the saints of our last reunion will

Call, hymnals will be sung and praise be given to the God of our ancestors;

and all the shapes of destiny will be founded through the ashes of complaint,

and spite tears down the door to any future; remain pure, and hold on to me

Devil in a red dress; for our hour comes, when we will dance before the choir

And when the curtain calls; there, we'll be wrapped within each other's arms,

begging for forgiveness of our sins; with the right hand burying the left in

blood and ritual; death will become us.

In this past time, when memory was clear of our interests; and all things were

born in black; there wasn't any case for distance in our youth, there was no

surviving scorn birthed on the wings of deadly angels; and in our tombs, there's

No surrender of the stars to keep us from our true calling; calamity's flame

Bursts through the air with the laughter of a siege gone mostly mistaken; each

shuttered picture scheme bent and the will to power lies deep within the burning

sieve of truth; where are we now, when the cock crows thrice; and into out tomb

We go, face down in our casket; with every other body in this world blooming

Into the cold, corporeal distinction of a body's substance; and as we lie in

death's surrender; as we plant our bodies in the sea of broken glass, too many

pieces break; and too much indication of our insanity rises up to greet us

At the top; there are no books, and no language here to speak of; just raw

Substance claiming forms and symbolic representation through pure aesthetics;

and this is the language of the gods; no meteors shaped without synthetic

representation, no stone polished without the file and the sand; no beauty

To behold, without a more simplistic point of view.

When the age was clear of lights, and before the shadows took us into bed;

when we were all alone, instead of scrambling to reveal a dithered shade

of red; I held you, in my distant way; becoming angry as you called out

My name, a misinterpretation of my form; and my light broke, and shattered

For many hours, I lay wandering in the shallows of a dead world, bleeding

through the mists of an ill begotten swampland; my beating heart, beating

as though dead; and I would swallow you before the train comes;

I'll open up my jaws, distended, disjointed; and carry you deep within my

Womb; a pleasure house of incubation, I'll let the bath water steep while

you sleep soundly; and carry us both within the distance of our life's

support, and we will weep in tandem when the water breaks

Love me now, and lay your hands upon my breasts; feel me, the warmth I give

And rest assured, there'll be little left of room to carry us down,

beneath the carpet; into the wooden planks and bury us in the earth

beneath our home, I'll rise without the death of our transcription

Better to live a life distended, and withdrawn from men; than to live lost

Without the comfort of this insipid lie of love's caress.

In this cold collapse of time, when days strike rhythm to the beating of the heart;

when tears dance cold through skin, and seasons rain their everlasting damp soul,

and when your necessity of birthright challenges the Lord of our remembrance

Keep to the shadows, and dream of the ice cold freeze; sentence the death stroke

And let the breeze win through your arms, I hope when all the shelter comes to

trap us in our lies; we rest completely and solely within each other's grip,

and to carry out the comfort of a night's sleep; we'll breed songs of the midnight

Rain; come into my helplessness; purge me of my loneliness, result in the transgression

Of my soul; but don't let go this life's instability, I need to capture for my own

once right and former lovers do, the night we overshadowed and sent the demons forth,

For once, we come and dream the thing is finished; our collage left ripped and torn

With passion's small amount of grace we reach the shore; an empty ship, maladjusted,

and word thin through the distance which has transpired upon its planks

Bleed into me, and let this blessing lie in form and substance; shattered

And then the first call of morning will rise through our windows, and we will stare

at the face of God; planted in the garden of our delights.

When substance rots, the decay is still fresh in the mind; and for my heart to beat

it echoes the travesty of years gone by, without the purity of love's regress still

lingering on the tip of my tongue; and I press your hand against my bosom, and we

Seize the hour to remain flesh; one body united through pain and ecstasy

To savor this hour, and our rebirth of passion, to sing a song of sympathy for your

relationship's dissolution, to dream of the day when we can be united again in flesh;

a body made through the ashes of our dissolved flesh; aged past death, and not denied

And to your anger, and the bitterness of the hour; I sit here laughing, as it is

just a joke to see your rage; you should have known better than to give up so easily

on love; your smile and your laughter are the same, empty soul singing;

I crave the obsession of passion, so look to me with angry eyes; I need your lust

And crave the company of a distraught soul; make me a better conversational partner,

tell me when I am on the verge of trouble's making, and sing loud and crisp

the wanton wings of desire; hold me to the face of innocence, and keep me from

Corruption's wings; that I may still the darkness, and purge the lengths of love's

Bouquet.

And we relax through the symphony of our still eyes; each cluster of diluted sound

hits against the inner ear and makes the muscles tense; relax, and move; our shadows

depleted of their energetic rhythm, pass by slowly and with certain measure,

You depict the scenery while I transcribe your thoughts, with pen and ink;

Transform the shadows into substance as you call out the winter's end, and I regress

into my melody; hung on the air, hung on the clean breath of God, washing over my

dress; as we perform the dance of twins; holding onto each other's arms while laughing,

Scolding one another for the slow sensation of sexual transformation in our womb

And as the seasons transform; there is a sickness and a plague, that of Apollo's

cold death washing through the wind; and I reason with my mind that our insanity

Should slumber and await is prosecution before the stars reach the deadly fear of night

Exploding suns, and black holes; and ours hanging by threads; let it be too late,

and let the world implode upon us in a storm of nuclear weapons; I'll grab you,

and hold onto the death; through infinity's shift, I'll suckle your breast

And keep the slow caress of form from brewing in my midst; we'll call the gods

Of summer into our arms, and bleed whole ourselves, between slow breaths; catch the

phrases of our surrender to language; and let speech seize us up in dreams,

I want to know you completely before the end of everything.

The shadow falls, looming from a distant star as night turns into day;

all is not forgotten, on the mind lurks an echo for the flesh to pursue;

and in this field of death, there rises a whore of God's reflection

To purge this body of its sins, in the fair recollection of the mire

Two seasons at their crossover, which will wear the most of nature's form

for a while the bleeding pierces skin and the heart remembers its sentimental

urge, to fear the miscarriage of form; and to acknowledge the spear as it

Pierces skin, again unloosening the shadow of our desolate hour; again

The bleeding ends. And as our days become mere hours; without any time

for drinking or sitting in the bath, contemplating death; there is a curse

which carries us into tomorrow's waters; and so we drink her shade of grey

And curse our hours left with bitter tears triumphant; so many dead

The hour draws us into a reflection of forms; the purity transcribed upon

the face, these lines and patches of dead skin; a reflection of our own

death, carried out in the pages of the holy book; each name written

In black ink; the color of our scribes' surrender to the arms of her embrace.

With our imbalance of form and structure, our slow escape into the possibilities

of dreams; and this slow and unresolved reform, still shattered on the egg's white

walls, I think of you; night and day I long to make you wholly mine,

And in this consumptive chasm of a thought; I provoke your passion, test out

The draining edges of your walls, and make you purely isotonic when you walk

outside the door; to dream, and the envy without constructing cause; with violent

whimsical delight; to purge the heart of necessity, make room for love's embrace

In the hollows of its folds, make laughing a transcendent rhythm of the lungs.

The anorexic split personality disorder; keeping secrets beneath the tablecloth,

a rising order of dissociative selection; and the voices call cleanly in the night,

to come; to open up the vault to Heaven; and be purged of sin, the false illusion

of God; and His glory, as it is stretched out beyond the stars; to infinity's

Regress, and to the ends of the earth and beyond; the tale falls short and the lights

go out; because you are ordinary, and not changed by the will of the gods; and at His

length you'd lie under and beneath as He cast shadows upon your reflective skin,

So take this bread and eat; this is the body of the Lord; given up for our sins,

Heaven and Hell; and the right and wrong ways have gone forgotten in our eyes,

and in our stomachs; every after simply spans the bridge of time to test our sins,

And every last longing, a desire in and of itself; purged for the lifeblood of the saints.

You are my muse; and my perfection,

wrapped in plastic enclosure,

you are spring and the beauty of life;

you are the rose of my desire;

No death will ever touch you,

not where I have placed you;

Each and every night, you claim

a deeper part of me, until the shadows

of my form speak your name

No wind, no water, or fire

will harm you here, you have

no exterior form; to me you are

the sculpture rebuilt over time

Collaged through pieces of many youths

all arrayed as one; where beauty lies,

there you are, the perfection scripted

in fire; sunken into stone with chisel

I would kiss you; but you are surreal,

the listening darkness and the dividing plane

You are cruel.

And you are mine.

It's time for Persephone's descent; and all the tide becomes a hush,

and all the stones settle below the hill, and it's a fragrance of death

which lies on the modest wind; too slow searching for the home

And when evening comes; and the rains of fall strike the chord of Heaven

Let the earth tremble and weep; let her wail in the garden, without

a drop of sleep; to ease her mind as her daughter passes through the

gates of Hell; should we divine the youth of our reconstructive purse

And sway the innocents to stand their ground against the storm,

Let's pass through judgment, and call out with her; from the fields

in mourning and in the evening rain, surrender to the lifelessness

of our defeat, so solemn is the death of beauty; and so quiet is her gaze

The gods triumphant sing upon the winds; her name is scribed in ink

Upon the doors to the underworld; Hades himself has pushed her aside

and said, tonight do not fear; there will be Spring and Summer;

Let the world fall.

An inch from the step of the door; too far out of reach to catch you as

you fall, but you soar; bravely into the desperate night, you reach the sky;

and as you waver, as you wander through the thickness of my breath

Life proceeds again, for a moment; as you fly, and then the bleeding of the

Heart subdues me, and I can't see past the clear blue sky; everything's

coming in at angles; and underneath my clothes, I'm burning up with heat;

the fossil fuels of discontented hearts worn thin with age, my blood

Swells into the chasm which holds you alive; and there's no beating which

Can exchange the loneliness I've felt, unless your bosom bleeds as well;

and if it holds me in, if it is pierced through just as mine, and the body

burns with passion's longing and desire; we'll throw the stars in a bucket

Claim the earth as our dominion, for a day; to see sweet love rebound

Against the death of one, so swell with me; our swollen limbs and every

stain we have bled upon the sheets; lie with me, and wait; it's only

An hour before the strands of time complete their purging.

We've no proof of what may lie below the earth, but there in our aggression lies

the simple truths, that one may claim and one may deny; to where our fortunes lie

and to whom the shadows will surrender over time; within this death's expansion

Let passion's flame roll out to claim the morning of our release; so lengthen

Your hem; draw in the waist; and wash your body clean of all debris; suck silently

on the licorice and ice; and cradle between your teeth a small amount of myrrh;

Heaven never after you could win the night; nor morning could contain a slice

of death; two renewed prescription pills, both bleeding from the swollen juices

If you had a face, if you had form; I would forgive you, and tolerate your substance

By the day; but you have naught of skin or breath, you've never left the shores

or contemplated these constructive pathways; you are hidden in the breast,

reliant on the things we've never reached through; you are the day we have born

So many isolated strands of melancholic breath; to pursue what simplistic paths

we may have chimed in to your collection; I urge you to take unto you a breast

Plated with gold; and complete your garments as to the rising of the sun,

There's women to wait on you, beneath the startled edge of the gods' canopy,

let them clothe you; and caress your form, make your structure perfect,

and when you breathe again, there will be air within your lungs; pure

Intoxication will fill your breath, and there will be a remainder of my skin;

To hold you, as if you were a woman dressed as the sun; as if you were a real,

tangible presence within my life; and to consume; we will imbibe and sacrifice

our feast to your gods; and to mine. Heaven holds the sun that bore you westward.

The sky's release, as it severs its wings and plummets to the ground;

and all our bodies shake when it hits; I see in you the reason for my art,

I see in you the purity of form which I've sought; each token of our

Affection, rolled up in a scroll and handed to the angel in waiting,

I scream for your accompaniment; to train me in my gifts, as in my own

resolution to be exposed; I lie naked on a bed of thorns; waiting for your

hand to pick me up; naked, and exposed to the elements of God

Hoping I will outlast this summer, shedding tears for your departure;

When the moment comes, and you'll be purged from my existence;

each day I'm blessed with your presence, is a day lasting with peace

and war within my mind; because your call is a fury and a formlessness

Awakening within me the deeper parts which never sleep; and light

Has only form when you have exposed yourself to me; and even that lasts

but a momentary glance; your breath creates a swarm within my breast,

And love's last glance should be a shadow cast in your exquisite form.

### Amethyst

Last Night's purged breath carries on, and now I'm fragile; and mostly broken, I can

barely move; without my mind spinning into pain, it's death contrived in a sentence

a fragment of our holy life gone unfulfilled; the remains of an abomination's sin

Small fragments hold me over until bedtime; and even then the body closes up,

While you collect our daisies from the field of youth; and sour some, without

changing your due course; I smell their fragmented fragrance from the yard; and

without going further, I take my bow and plummet to the ground, but not for them;

For your great beauty, come back to me; I will not be sad for your departure

Any more, and when I was; it was a season's changing; the youth in my heart has

felt so thin of late, but there's a moment you could claim to reclaim it and

Make my peace whole; each word spoken and each word black will be for the grave;

When a ritualized perspective takes its hint of ivory sun among those already

spoken; she must do so in a cloud of death; so none will run, and they will

watch without eyes and touch her form; without fingers, and through this

Broken womb, there will be enough of death; for an hour, to call for her surrender.

And our descent begins, and the calling of the lights to midnight; as we make our

way through into the morning hours; let every muscle reclaim its throne of glory

as we speak into each other's ears; of the lessons and the revelations of our youth

So much talk of our rebellious nature; so much bleeding through the sheets

And when the night comes again, we'll be ready for the pyre; as witches always burn,

so through your song, and through the calling of the names of God; I will answer

and sustain my love's last remedy of truth, through the pages of our intellect

As they burn, and as they come again into the fossil's folding in of yesterday's

Redemptive heart; I'll lay like a dragon sleeping; and consume the bones of lovers

while you pass inward and onward through my skin, and pass over me; your heart ever

beating for my heart; and our stance as uncorrupted as a pure and filtered water

To tame me, and to drink of my blood; regain some purity in my soul

So many lost lives I've spent, searching for this mild perfection of form and shadow,

so much of my days has been spent longing for the dissolution of my skin; and now,

while the cock is ready, waiting to crow its last; I drive my needle through the skin

And bless the God of Heaven for His sentence; for this small bout of depth

Wandering wholly through a denial of infatuation; only to be locked within your call

I hear you even in the daylight beneath the trees; calling me home, into your heart,

where the wind won't blow and the tears will cease their falling.

And then to God I wrote a letter; scripted in my mind, through the lenses of a

sinful woman; pleading and denying myself for just a moment's breath; as I came

into the light of a resurrecting scar filled with pus and stitches, and rot

Who am I, beneath these sheets; stammering against my mind's edge, who am I,

Placed within this world without a hint of redemption to my name, I am the night

I am a facet of it; calling on the wind, and when the moon rise; there I am,

among my children and out against the chill hard rock of the cliff side

Back exposed with the sheets against my breasts; holding onto them lest I lose

My shadow; and there is sex, alive and within the shadows; and there is matrimony

high up on the winds, and there's a plane of ecstasy, buried deep within my

heart; waiting for the trumpeter to sing

And it's a song of the night, deep and hollow; like the ancients come out from

Their graves, and it is dark and pleasant to hear their voices chained up in my

memory; every stain becomes a din of truth; and while the silent night retains

its air of mystique; there is a wanderer; looking for me, in the mild mountain

Mist; she claims a piece of my heart, and I must surrender her the whole,

So with these shadows fully blossomed for the song; I catch the night's worth,

and wait for the second apparition to appear; the dream I had in sleep, the woman

with gentle eyes and the heart of God, who whispered in my ear.

Our democratic twist; the housing of our lives, a shelter from the pains of

being young and foolish; and so we take our lives, to battle and to heartache;

where there's at least a bit of pain; and we proceed within the boundaries

Of God's given graces; holy are those who take part in the bath of sins

Pouring out their unrighteousness against the brink of poverty, blessed are

they who purge themselves of their inaction; I take the right train to get

home, but home has nothing left but sore eyes and deflated youth;

What I need is adventure and love's request, blooming like the fields

In spring time; so many flowers and so much life; I need to carry on my back

the breath of a forgiving God, so much time has passed since I first left

my home in search of something grander; more complete, and here I am

At the brink of extinction, with a sentiment of youth's unbridled fury

Take me in against my will, and bind me up; bleed me and let the blood curdle;

there's too much sin buried within my veins, the death of inaction, cradled

Poison love is what I need, the toxic flame of lust burning inside of me,

And when we reach the motion of the stars, when we bury ourselves in flames,

I'll hold you in, beneath the waves of the sea; and we'll make our bed in the

ocean; against the tide's twists and turns; and we will see the sentiment

Of youth, exchanged with that of bleeding and of denied ecstatic charm.

We wash our bodies in the ocean at noon; coming up for air, I see your smiling face

and drown for a moment within the glare of your bright sun; and as the shadows leak

away beneath me, the smile's contagious wrap comes unfolded in my eyes;

And we are young here, and as the ocean bleeds; so does my heart, in the necessities

Of reconstruction, I can distance myself from your intoxication; but there's no

place to run from the smell of your youth's begetting eyes; those clear, calm stains

upon my skin; which disappear beneath our moon, I want to hold the candle's light

And let our alibi come pure; untainted, like a clear and Summer's breeze;

Fortune's faith, the gods collect our souls in baskets; before the Summer ends,

and when the wash lies dormant; when the sea constricts its body against the earth,

and there's no more time for bleeding; no more time to hold in our beloved sins,

Take the life from me, with its pure consciousness; hold me in against your will,

Estrange me from the capital of your country; we'll make a mockery of God,

and yet be saved somehow, if we can rearrange our purpose; and our life's blood;

Every sin which remains a hold against us; let them be purged; so that the symphony

of the stars can begin its final act; and place us on its shoulders, in the choir's

chair; And then; when we replace our boundary lines, and come into complaint beneath

The eye of God; we'll reason and repent, seize the hour as a lover's quest for stones.

Let's wrap this world in plastic, and take it home, we'll build a beautiful castle

in the sky; and drink the blood of each other's cuts and eat our flesh's fire

and save the rest for another day, another hour; in another time; we'll dress

In the finery of angels as we pursue our lust; and take down kingdoms

With the birth of our daughter, we'll dream a new illusion of the sun; and she

will rest within its cradling arms; and we will feed her the milk of our sacrificial

goat; and the honey of our passion, as we proclaim jurisdiction among the earth

Souls go down into Hell, but the rhythm of our love transcends; take a cup

And drink to the play of passion on the tongue, and I will drink my own boiling sin;

weathered by your beauty, as if to announce your coming among the satin sheets;

We digress, and we save the world another bout of irony; and for all our plagues,

there will be seasons to remember us by; and as we wane, as the bright light dims

between us, let there be no brighter future than what we have endured;

Let this simple love's digression remain among our memories; and in our hearts

So that fulfillment may be beautified; and that the remnants of our shadow linger.

What were you like, when you were just a child; and when the night came on you,

what hallucinations did your mind play, and was the water pleasant when you

submerged in sleep, because I can't remember my own youth; it's just a vague

Impression on the mind; a shallow sieve of heartache and pain; without

Anything tying it together, what of it now; and what will last of our dissolving

flight of fantasy; where will we wind up, when the curtains close; your eyes

tell truths I cannot see beyond; plain truths, but there is something hidden

In their shadows, and as I wait for you in my own shadow of redemption;

As I sing a lonely song into the night's abandon, and close my eyes to dream of you;

each breath seems as it were a spin of yarn around the skin; a pleasant structure

Wound without regret; and without the sorrows I have felt before, you take me

In your arms, and wind the whole of reality and wrap me in destructive skin;

and I take the feelings of this rebirth, an innocent rendition of our song;

So lightly as to reconsider youth's corruption; and I will take tonight,

Wrap it in the soul's entombment; and place myself in your arms, without regret.

You distance me with your sun

approaching midnight; and claim there's nothing new

to show you beneath the sky,

and I'm restless, and I don't complain

there's too much of starlight in your breath

and I can feel conception's understanding in your eyes,

although you don't show a care for anything mundane

your song in the surreal; in the motion of the earth

a steady flame with bursts of toxins

and we give birth to another sun,

and call his name Forgotten One

and as we shelter him in the silence of our death,

we brave the surrender with your passage.

Deep in the waters of your eyes,

I've captured form and taken reason's request;

and there's a swan, bleeding

the rest will be explained when I come up for breath

for now you'll softly swim within the algae

decide on our surrender to the gods;

how high should we wave the flag of morning's breath

and what body should we bathe within its light,

under duress, we claim our symphony of season's end

and sort out songs of our surrender

while your shaking body gives me new direction

and your lips hold in the answer

to this delightful song

The key.

Emotion overwhelms me

and this imbalance of our sin

cradles me, between hurt and anguish

and the perfume of your scent

stains the pages of the book

white ivory and black ink

next to a shadow of our recalled correction

time wears thin, and the night calls

you'll be gone soon

at the midnight hour

when everyone sleeps, you'll sleep

and dream of horses flying through a midnight sun

while I call your name, Wysteria

and hide myself from the serpent of the deep

you'll answer; but in dreams

hallucinations

and there's no thunder in your voice to calm my suffering

so I will cry, comfortless serenity; I'll leave the world

while you search for something new to tackle and gain control of.

We strive for the dimension's failure to arrive at the moment of our reconception;

and to place within, the frailty of youth; its weathered shine and its waxed reunion

of our sins; spilt in with the blood of our distress; I see you, even without your

Light recoiling through my eyes; your vision has been burned into my eye,

And as we walk; and as we free the fields of depths of song; I react as if you'd

touched me through the cloth; and as this clothing fades; as substance's white matter

tears apart, and as the urge closes in on us to dream a heavy form of frost

I like you, purring against my chest; I like the feel of your soft skin

Touching me, and I like the reasons for our misconceptions of truth; and our diminished

discussion of the boundary of good and evil; where it takes place, and where we lie

upon it; and the bath waters which rise to fill the gaps between the two

Localized drops of prism suns; the kind which form the worlds we have encountered;

Our eyes, blatantly recognized through the pains and sufferings they have seen,

in due course, I imagine you have left the wild eye wandering;

So to sin; and for to place an arm upon your hand, I dress the night in black.

The depths to which my love spills over, and into you; where your breasts lie still

and waiting for my breath to carry on; here I am, at the edge of my mind's bleeding;

spinning on and into some new form of insanity, there's too little time left for

Beating of the heart, although it beats loud enough; and when your eyes close,

Here I'll be, writing the infusion of a song; to carry you softly into sleep, but for now

let's try not to wake any dragons, or the children who carry on in their silent dreams;

We'll laugh loud enough when tomorrow's renaissance repeats, and the cradle awakens

So let's try to get a bit of rest; and see what comes when morning glows again,

it is the season for rebirth and for change, and you may change yet; and grow;

into some wild creature I haven't met before; and I may worry at the thought of

Loss, and of the skin's separation between us; but I'll let that pass through me,

As the ancient text says, there is life and sound eruptions of the glass; past

infinity's surrender, We'll make a mockery of the gods; and clean the essence

of our synonyms; for past and through this static field of ice;

One must raise the living from the dead's reception.

Your breasts, even more than your hands; both of which are perfect; touch me

but it's the gazing of your eyes that intrigues me most of all, what do they see

in me; what worth or value in my disarrayed remainder of a self;

Whole and unbroken parts of me; or the fragile forms, taken up with doubt

The irresponsible collection of impurities; what shadows fill my longings,

what ghosts complete my desirous eyes; what is it you see, that draws you in;

Is it the last fit of laughter which I brought on, or the seeming daze of

youth still fighting to be corrupted; how long will we sit here, and wonder

What life lies on the other side; this magic portal into other worlds;

As we descend the steps into the pages of each other's work; and rise to

represent the morning's call, and how we'll flee into the vastly corrupted sky

And we're depressed into silence, where we dream complete and utter lies

The distance sworn between us, has changed somewhat; while you lay stranded

in your bed and I within the artist's chamber; making friends with my denied

existence; there comes some citizen of our country, calling; and you lay still

While I discover the meaning of what beauty lies beneath your silken hood.

Without you in the pool, to wash away my sins and leave me innocent from this

corruptive filth I've spewed; without your face to look into, when the evening

rises in the west; without your answer when I call, there's too much love left

Within my heart; without there being anyone to give it to; so come.

Draw nearer yet; come. Let the depths of poison spill into our blood, and let

tomorrow's worries take care of themselves; we'll live for the day, and for the

hour; for life's array, the spoils of our shelter here, within this flask of night

And as the cave pulls us in towards its entrance; and as the hollow sound leaves

Violence in the air; we'll come about, unscathed by the blistering of stars;

we'll come about breathing the intoxicating air of silent matter; and we will thirst

for better days, while we make love within the orchard of God.

Seven sons and thirteen daughters; and we will pray there be repentance in our youth

A distant time, and the settling of our scars beneath the moon; I walk in time as

backwards, through your years; as you grow older yet, and see time devour all your days;

And when the stars reach their peak within the sky; and as our dinner is set among them,

we'll take place at the table with a cup of ecstasy in each hand; and bow down before

the Lord; and quiet the angels as they sleep; tonight in dreams, we will awaken God.

What's new within your eyes, as they shine so deeply from the fields of grey;

and I purse my lips because of it, and I flock beside you; testing the waters

of our resuscitation; will we ever sound the same again as we did last night,

When the thought of you receding failed to arouse my interest; and when you

Startled me awake this morning, and I found in you the perfect representation

of the muse; to capture all my deepest sorrows and purge my body of its blood,

The soul lies empty, without your touch; and without you in my waking thoughts

I drift slowly into sleep, where even then I find your form, in the symbolic

world of words; to press in close and hold me tightly as I dream; love is

idyllic in all its phrases, and come the corporeal song; it charms

And in your youthful prism, I see the angels flying with their wings unfolded

And the thought of you lying there; beneath the dirt; when death has dusted

off your doorstep, doesn't bother me; for some strange reason it is the purpose

which you've left that keeps me treading here, in ice-cold water;

In the slow conception of the sun.

The exposition of our love, as passed down through the unconscious mind,

through the purgatory of our dreams; through the hollow fields of ivy,

as we set sail for new horizons and are birthed beneath a distant star;

You and I may yet walk through the valley of the flesh and bone;

And as we take our measure, will be held up against the indecision of our

fears; to reconstruct the fantasy we both have born; and into the pages

scratched with dark black ink, our blessings and our curse

I want to overshadow you in the bed; and overpower you with my form

And substance; hanging on by threads in hopes of devouring your pleasant

body, and take into me your mind; the broken remains of it, to shelter

Deposit your remains in a jar; and keep it safe, for cradling at night

To hold the bitter substance of your form; I'll make us a bed, and we'll

lie like angels in its stead; and cry the night through; over empty dreams,

And substance passes through, unaltered; into the silence of a world gone

dead, and as we gain the simplicity of our better half of weary arms,

We'll wander through the destruction of our home.

We're high on shadows, as the dust rises and the wind swells in the east;

too much completion of our path works its way into the strain of leverage,

and one may ask the question why; as if the thought were purged

But never in the end may we rest solely on the sun; and each redemptive call

Works our hands into the soil, where it belongs; one false passage, one redeeming

quality of youth; as we collide with angels, and abide within the truth;

suffering's become a plague, and as the winds grow easy; we can distance ourselves

From each other's pyre; and open up our hands, and let the offering fall

Too constricted of a call for freedom to ring clear; slavery's bell a token of

our gradual decay; and men lie easy on the backs of those who came before, and drink

the offering which we had soured in our pits; too much drunkenness;

So as the call for envy shifts the galaxy's stars; and as your letting go could

Shift the water's resting place; we'll hold the edges of our home, and place a window

at the corner of our room; so we might see the northern lights as they set fire

to the earth, and disobey; and disbelieve the cornerstone's quietness

As we make death an offering fit for kings; the splice has bit the sea.

In our descent, and in the passage through time's boundaries; where claims to

God and heightened awareness are cut short; and the enthralling victory of love

takes too many moments to contemplate, before the tide lets in its flow

Caution to you, my dearest darling; before the water falls, before the saplings

Turn black with the stain of death; and an angel appeared to me and said,

come here; take this bitter herb and eat, it is my body; and the howling wind

became a place of refuge; and my mind burst open like a splintered flask of wine,

Duty calls us here, to gather in the waves of a redundant mind;

And as we go, the waves crash heavily on the shore; even so my mind wanders;

to the feasting place where God had resurrected all the dead and gave them hosts;

So now, is the deliverance of youth embodied, even as the young gather together

Frozen spats of time; hurried shores being washed away by the lapping of the waves;

another plane crashed into the beach side; into the foul tide's laughter,

and as we go on; as we sustain the chord of calling, there is another light beating

Of wings; and the raven caws, it falls down to the earth and drowns in the river;

White crests where it lands, and the severed head bleeds; while we wait, another bird

comes and falls; and yet another; soon it is a flood of death, rising on the ocean's

tide; and we call out, "stop," but no one hears us; only laughter emerges from the depths.

What beauty lies in youth, and in the innocence's purge there comes a moment

of relief; two lies, tied in tandem against a body that's been quickened for

destruction; two level curves, bought through the beauty of her eyes;

So parallel a construction, so simple a plan to be obstructed through its

Denial of her body; only winds will take me to her home, and only the shadow

can keep me from feeling this utter loneliness; I shy away, restricted in my

form, while two shadows play their thoughts upon the pedestal's encasement

Darkness in the constructive act, and white light's destruction with the fury

Of God's compliment; strewn down from Heaven's shelter, how complete the eyes see;

and how complete the dream becomes when we are shadows, lingering on in fate's

resolve; two heightened beasts laid low; and the catapult's flight

Blessed are they who come; in the name of God, for His beleaguered sins

May be strewn upon us; oh, heavenly Father; you take away our sins and reconstruct

our lives in accordance with Your will, and as we feast the decay sets in;

and we sing praises, and curse God; and every knight who sits claims a piece

The body, your body; which was given up for my conception; and we made love

Within the shadows of a broken glass, our hour has come and we will watch the world

burning from our perspectives; and we'll see Heaven and Earth collide in a great

masterpiece of destruction; and we'll sing to God our praise; holy, holy, holy

Destroyer of worlds.

There is a cloud hanging in the yard, deathly green with a broken picture

of my youth, and it hangs there; softly swollen until it bursts with pride;

and my mouth droops; and salivates, and I cannot contain this simplified

Surreal and picturesque expression of my idiocy;

My ill-containment and my wish to be both young and foolish; for the spell

of our generation's gap, so it may bleed my blood with the others' and spill

my death into its ground; And I will carry on with my appointment,

To go beneath the slippery slopes of the unconscious mind, and to dive.

Too far beneath the ocean's surface; too far dead to see the top of the earth;

and once we've passed through childhood's pleasures; and beyond, what good is it

to transform ourselves into the semblance of a lie; there's only one place

To plant this seed of knowledge; within the encasement of one's heart

Plant and liquify; not with the spirit of truth or of love; but with persistence,

age and beauty; the forrested corruptions of the night, we'll seize the pasture

and bury the men who tend it; and when the dawn comes, and all of God's soldiers

Come to fight; they'll see us wearing straight masks; and simple clothes,

and gardening; and they will see our works and let us go.

Then the doorman will ring; and we will pay with our own lives, as Satan's fury

has been unleashed; and the rest of the world laid waste with his instruction,

Corporeal reality turned black and white film; with the shades of red bled over.

They bleed, the skin is perforated

and its construction flawed, yet we breathe

and carry the momentum of our loss

schooling into silence, it's the last cave of our report

and wrestled to the ground

sweet, corrupted youth; transpired

fixated on for a cause, and needles pierce

each spot of sensitivity

oceans alert us of the dangers of drowning,

while we plunge ourselves beneath the sea; some future wave

rolls over us, compounding our distrust in the humanity of God

two legs left for walking back through time

and a silent and lazy eye; held in for remembrance

of what transpired.

This slice of death's insinuation; as we climb the parapet, into the stars and beyond

one small and bleeding moment of the birth of a child; while we gather in the wood

for our sacrificial fire, and all is well in the seven heavens; and all the earth

Sings the song of grace, and willingness to bow before the plane of ashes;

And to set flames to its firstborn young, while as we drown in the cradle of our death's

renaissance, where dungeons await us with chains; and the willingness to surrender

To faith; to beauty and the rest, I come with you; to the hour of the divided self

Resting on a bed of thorns, no hearing left within me; just the stuttering of an aged

woman, dressed in wild fire; dressed in blood and tears, so much of travesty and of

rebellion's song; and so much innocence lost; we can await the thirst of our death

As it purges all the senses in a bout of blood and ash; and then the milk swells in

The lungs, a toxic breath; a drowning song, the gurgle of a love's last bastion; played

out against the bleeding of our drums, laid down for us in iron chains

Before the head of Satan has been gifted sight and hearing, before the last long prayer

And prophecy come to light.

In the light of your eyes, I find the candle burning brightly; and as much as I would

see you walk in tandem in my life, there is a slight constriction to our union; there

is a void which hangs between us and doesn't let the sunlight bleed through

Enter into our world beyond death, and beyond the distinction of the flesh

And here, we've reconstructed our desire; here we plainly see the isle of our youth

as it was intended to be born; and without fear, we walk the shallow waters of our

death, in the comforting of angel's breath; without a hint of death to swallow us

Beneath the breeze of God; we find ourselves dancing on the winds, devoid of our

Considerations and replacement of the still waters; we can breathe and we can hold

each other's forms; in the likeness which was good for us, in the stories of our books;

and we'll send pages of the burned books to Heaven, and grasp onto our religious

Nature, as we purge our stain of sin; even as we float among the bricks and mortar

We'll purchase a slight necessity of gold; and into dreams, we'll flow; and into the cusp

of a new direction; unto God, and unto our deliverance. But as the darkness comes;

we'll find ourselves facing the deliberation of our soul's true journey

And sealed with a kiss; we'll read the pages of our fortune, as we slowly fade away

into the dusk.

Clearly, in the denial of our love; and of our ecstasy's transmission, placed among

the stars; and as your bright light of innocence retains its certain form, I place

you in my quarters; and in my bed. And we'll make strings of angels to cover the walls

And place for you a trumpet in the window sill; we'll wash your feet in holy water,

And abandon all hope, as you recede into the darkness which has called us both; there is

no strain of purity in this world; while all lay incomplete and formless before bed,

there is a southward presence calling us tonight; it is the sound of the hollowed dead

So take my hand, child; and become something more than purity's awakening,

Breathe in the dust of death, and I will do the same; there is a toxic flow, receding

into our lungs; into our bodies; and as we drink, as we sustain our pleasant death,

Nothing in the world was ever so luscious as your lips are now;

And I place my head within your hands, and sleep; bathe in the intoxication of youth;

and cradle my heart within your bone structure; within your chest cavity; I place my wound

Seeking the adventure of a succinct and total lack of purity; a rebellion against the gods;

While I wind up what is left of death, and let it fly; and let these words carry me,

into the western lands, where I will seek my future among the buried souls.

We sell our souls for the transparency of youth's desires; without accordance,

without the complete frustration of our own internalized reflections; without

death's dormant phrase, lingering on the tongue; and as I pass into you,

Without regret, I take you higher than you've ever been; and dash you into shards

When you've come; when all the world has emptied its restrictions, and when we bathe

within the waters of our lust; passion says of this frustration's emptiness; too much

blood has been shed for the corners of these sheets; and we will pass on into glass

And through the morning's bleeding edge; and see the knife's blade cut through us

The hours grow thin, and the body weakens, as a flame near death; and is it love,

which has transpired; is it love which captivates the heart and lets the body grow

weak, too much makes you sicken; so take leave, and love another for a spell

Or let it grip you unto death, and let the world tumble beneath your feet,

And take shelter in the heart's pain as it burns; only fire can keep you here;

and only the distant flames will hear the heart's pattern; as it burns up the body,

Leaving the soul to play its filthy games; of heartache, despair; and death.

Tied to the inconvenience of our truths, our destinies entwined with the skin

of demons; there's so much of shadow and of flame involved in the epistemology

of our unguided journey; and so when the angels come and bring us hell to

Bathe in, isn't it the only way to travel; to gaze in upon one's self

And succumb to the sins which linger far beneath the skin, what sunlight rises

in the east has broken the pronunciation of a vowel; and breath resides in your

longing, what passion plays; lets loose the inner demons from the surface

Of an interior night, to spawn with the clarity of a serene prescription

We swallow death in a pill.

And as we taste the fluid substance breaking through and out onto the tongue,

there's a cold recognition that all things are how they were defined; and that

there is a God; and He will judge us according to our works,

Let the cold blood flow, and let us tolerate our skin's redeeming qualities,

and let the cold winter blast set up for us a piece of snow; to carry forth

Into death's beyond.

We weren't designed for this; for our prescription to be filled, and for

the penalty of night to turn down its hand upon our heads; and seize the

company head, for carrying off the dead into the shadows of the underworld;

These two lights settle as the dusk rises, these two foul and empty forms

Gather in the consequence of our exposure to the sun; our melody charged and

ready, waiting to become undone; so the shadows speak, so slowly in anticipation

they swarm; two lovers in heat; waiting for the essence of the warmth

To carry on their shoulders what remains of death, of sweet serenity;

Could you pass through the shadow and find your place among the golden spires;

could you disrupt the wind, and leave me here; hollering for the death's

betrayal to the sun; all lives go into descent; and are channeled into youth's

Boundary, consumed by the harsh, delicious gusts of wind; all flesh subsumed

And each and every stable version of this concrete wall is made obscured

through the visions of old men, and dead lovers; entwined in semblance to

God's filthy betrayal of man; and the substance of our youth decays,

Leaving only a trace of our last memory's remains.

In this sea of formlessness, within these iron bonds, I change the lock

severing the flesh, and painting it anew; there's a static flow surrounding me,

And I will see the end of it, before my days have passed into the whole of death

One woman born through unnatural means; the gravitation of this pull

Attracts; and death has decided for her a name, not my own; to carve into her grave

Maria, born of ashes and of flame; the toxic diary, rehearsed for a fortnight;

And into this schism, she will pour her pain; and be delivered unto the shadows

Of dreams; Maria, to call into the night for her desperate cry of youth and enjoyment;

the suffering she has endured, and the plain night's air she has suffocated within,

Paint the world red, and in shadows read the book of her descent

Cradling the ashes of the fallen, and crying for her newborn child's broken heart;

she'll paint the world red, with her blood; and enter in a sea of red before her end.

In our decision gate; locked away with the logic of the ancients, I rest a while;

burning with the passion of the gods, while you seize the rolls of scripture,

and I contemplate the structure of your skin; as passed down through generations

This vacant plastic glare you give; and the restitution of your smile, settling in

The reenactment of the dawn, as pressed flat on the page; the caravan of travelers,

sentenced with a wild-eyed wanderlust and for burning books; I recollect my own wages;

and size up the shelter that was made (for me and for my own rebellion) to drive home

Canopy in the wind, canopy rising above the storm; let the world see your flight

And there is too much pain in this beloved retribution, too many holidays spent sitting

by the wayside; not letting the demons in to play; without the stench of toxic gas

But as we watch the shadows, grow and corrupt; seek the formless night as through

an earshot; and then to place its branches, the branches of the oldest tree of God

Upon the altar; and burn them all, under the guise of heavenly ascent of flesh

And when they burn, what then; an avenue of saints is placed in the center of downtown;

and great parades will come to fill it out with glory; and God will ride through;

With his Ford convertible, while everyone watches on in pure amazement; waiting for

The candy; I'll be waiting for the candy to roll.

The heavenly ascent to our gates has been corrupted by all the anger, and the paling

of the flesh; time's constraints hold back our tears while the energy of love has

languished; during this time, there's been weathering of youth and a storm of ease

Passing through, and while we walk through the galaxy on fire; and dip our heads

Into the pool of lost and forgotten dress, I meant to tell you that I love you,

that all the things which have passed were merely to remind me what beauty you've

become; and all things fade, and all things come unto a rest

Bleeding out, into the pools of time; all things are become a quietude of unrest

And as the anger flows; so does love, into the basin; show me now your naked flesh,

exposed to the eyes; and I will give you laughter for a compliment, not the foul

and unforgiving kind; but laughter's purest form, a rising of the blood to the head

To treat this malady and disappointing glare we've left upon each other's mind

And we'll make amends, and break this shallow hold; to dream what can become of our

encampment, to make a holiday of flesh's ecstasy and break the bread and drink our

wine in perfect union; to let the scabs heal and the dangers of the deep dissolve

Right now, between the dithered arms of sleep and the highlight of our wakeful hours

Rest, and bleed; we'll make a stew to simmer in the remainder of our youth.

What the silence comes to; what remains after the birth of this foreseen star;

and when the gold holds us in; when the risen star points out our names among

the book of the survivors, who can say there's anything but youth's arrangement

Keeping us from the distinction of the stars; let's gather in below her name

And envy, and adorn her with caterpillar wheels, each cloud of smoke retained in

her vast bosom; and each sentence placed word by word as she surveils the rising

of the sun; there's so much in a name, love; I'll tell you more about mine

I am the earth, I am the lover come undone; the chime and the bell post, crying

And whenever anyone passes through my gate; I take collaged pieces of them for my

requirement, and they will stand; some for years, and some for less than an hour

To be holden to this assemblage of my dream, to carry out my fantasy, and for mirth's

Inquisitive stone; to bleed. Each hour pressed into the darkness; and each drop of

poison sent into your veins; will be a welcome sign, for those who enter here come

Of their own free will; to sacrifice themselves for meaning and interpretation through art.

Through smoke and silence, we capture the essence of ourselves; trapped in chains

and the rhythm of the heart as it beats slowly and constantly each other's names;

For hours spent in solitude, this is the last gasp of our required frame of mind

And a bleeding purge of what we may contain within our souls, there's a settling

of mud and of desire's framework here; and the mystery of ages springs forth from

our remains; there is a cold death waiting in the Spring; and Summer's pinnacle

Wherein we fall, headlong into Autumn's regress; into the parasitic stew of silence

One more name, written in the stars; and one more length pursued, and in falling arms

we grasp the cold, dead bodies of each other's forms; lengthening our indecision

and our pain; when no more death will rise, when the formlessness of light

Consumes our souls; and we are finally at peace with one another, burning brightly

Here we will remain within each other's grip; and here, the life-long struggle

will destroy us both in a chaos born of wind and flame.

Thanked for sudden fortune; for the blessings of the night which pass into day,

for swift return of vengeance on the wicked; and for the valuable commodity of

ice in this land of fire, ashes and death; so soaked with the promises of life's

Return; and bleeding with the thoughts of insanity's purge; amendment to my mind's

Ill at ease suffering; sacrifice to the gods of the underworld, and the plague's

conception in our times; I want to be rid of my institution's voice; to carry on

the song, as it was done through many times before; to close up and collect the

Ruins of the night, and reconstruct the pages of these burned books;

Shelter me as I plan my revolutionary tract; we can combine our planes of thought

into a new existence, where the dogs won't bite; and where humanity's slaves are

those of intellect, and of the mind; and the body will thirst for brevity

If I could twist reality's construction; I'd hold you first within the palm of my

hand; and make you plainly see that our love's resurrection could be cold, and

tiresome; and even so we would resuscitate, and breathe into it form and beauty;

And after the walls collapsed, and blood spilt; we'd have enough to drink to carry on.

The vault of the gods, where we place our purchased souls; and in memory of their

enslavement, we will pass a test of love; our violent death, contained within a pill;

for the ease of passing into new horizons; where we shall place ourselves side by side

For an epiphany of reason, and a splitting of the mind's rested company

Two grains of salt, dusted off the counter top; two lice on your scalp, one for my

entertainment; and the other a resting point for dreams, a small measure of enslavement

to carry on our symphony and into the stars, we ring and we arise

For the company of our delight, and our purge; spent on beauty's sun

While the rhythm of the heart contains my loneliness; my desperate plunge into death;

two rings, held out at arm's length; one for you and one for the wife I've left,

to carry on in passage the death of our son; and bury him in the plot beneath the ocean

Time will take away our sins, and grant us peace in our days; life will consume

The better parts of us; and while we lie, waiting in a bed of ashes and cinders;

the meadow melts the mire, and the capital state of being shifts the seasons,

while death takes us into the pure tokens of breath and life everlasting; to sit

Upon the throne of God, and see the world unfold; to watch, through eyes of a child

The better part of humanity decay, and drive itself into the ground; there is no hope

for the children of the earth when there is no compassion left to save them; no death

will take us under to betray the lifeless head of an unknown God.

The place we span; our space in the continuum of time, which we hold steady;

our unbiased footprint sunken into the threads of reality, our folded skin

as it corrupts the remainder of our death's conception; our bleeding into

The pools of life; our emptied selves, restless as we are for our endurance

Through the passage; and as I watch you bloom, as you become the company of

life's rehearsed connection between me and what lies after; the distance grows

Plainly as the eye can see, it turns a steady hand and falters; and the fall

Plays heavily on my heart, and in your absence; in this blessed frame of sentiment

dissolved, I peel the token reminder of your story; of your glory, of your skin

As it erupts into the framework of my unsettled dreams; so it is, and so it has

Always been; you taint me with your beauty, and the stains sit heavy on the skin;

and through my light collapse, through this death of endless destruction placed

within me; I burn for your child placed within my womb; and for the night to come

So settle in, lover; and make this one complaint to God, that we be steady

In our state of innocence and despair; that all the lights burn for how long they

will last, and that the purge of death's remnant flood us quickly in the end.

With the force of our instructions left bare, and the cool breeze of a light summer day

bent on with howling frost and trees barren of any clothing from the still silent blast

of winter; youth's betrayal becomes a definite response to our unlocking the doors to

Heaven's gate; and the slow reconstruction of our past, through mediocre minds

Pleasantly shaping our history through their reunion of our sense; all the leaves have

migrated into past seasons, sentencing us all to death, with the cut and conviction

of their roots; slaves sing on about their cholera and their conjectures based in blood

Every evening comes the unlocked door to Satan's realm; each journey pressed with a single stone

The journeyman comes; and the interlopers digress, when all has lost its balance and none

can hold us up; there is a fleeting moment of regret, of sin; of death, and one man's claim

of life can be another's torment in eternity; so hold on to the precious stones of truth

Their lacking knowledge of the sun, their birthed calamity comes truer than the death of God

And as the forerunner to this sentence of destruction knows; only God is vindicated;

through love or through despair; or both, and there is some semblance ot truth in our

recognition of one another's tears; and blood, we'll paint the walls red

And leave enough for bathing; and leave enough for soaking our skin into, so we may

be blessed children of God; purified through blood, and through the everlasting dominion

of the stars; fortune may ring, and the air of the saints may blossom; but we'll

Remain untainted and purified through each other's sacrifice of love.

You come past the refusal of my birth; through the many pages left to you of

dissonant reminders of our form; the bath in beauty's surreal depiction and

the necessary sight we have foretold of youth's divide; cradle me here,

And place a firmament of Heaven's resemblance on the shelf for my perusal;

God's gift to humanity, and the stain of sin, bleeding through the symbols

on the page; our dissonant reminder of what is left of innocence in this broken

skin, two taps; and the symbols flare to life

One is breathing the foul concoction of a plaintiff's death

While the other presses inwards and upwards against the courage of another's sin;

poor choices for the fury of God to remember us by, mild sentences born with the

grace of mathematics and poetry combined; and the future holds more worries

More intense signification on a crowded street, with men bathing in the oil

Of purgatory's sacrilege; too hard the flames burn; too broad, they overcompensate

for bringing pestilence among the broken pieces of the dead.

The century's complaint; rolled up in steel, and bent; across the shadows of a

dissonant and corrupted field of grey; and as we walk, hand in hand below the bridge;

as we migrate west into the dead lands, I take my drink from your cup

Instilling youth's semblance into my veins; and burying a slight discomfort,

There they are, the steel swords; bent and misshapen, holy words of truth unveiled;

and the mysteries of God dissolved into the valley of the dead, each pose of our

regression, and each landmark of our sins conceal this truth; that nothing lasts

Even the remainder of God has been foretold as one who breaks and bends

With reality's deconstruction through time; even God has the semblance of one dead;

and as the fire grows, as He commands it, even so there is a boiling stain unearthed,

the sentence of our conjecture and of our sanity; transformed through the hint of nature's

Resolve; the bent and uninterrupted scathing of the midnight owls; "hoo, hoo,"

Dusting off the remnants of my resolve, I hang the canopy over my head and cry your name;

on the wind, when no one answers; and none receive me, dust-to-dust and ashes to the ground;

We'll recall the distance between each other; when the grass consumes the soil;

and everything is as it should be, painted through the destiny's remainder of your face.

When she could contain my life within her breast, I held her in my hand and savored

every moment of our youth; recaptured, in the intimacy of her breath, I dove headlong

into death; and nothing would suffice for me save to end it all and be nearer to her

But then, in an instant; in an hour, she came; unfurled her flesh and bled

And I had no words or sentiment to express, it was the perfect timing for our love's

dissolution; the perfect breath and to become undone so easily through this unveiling

of the skin's solution, hard pressed against my own skin; this pure death

The division and remainder of our life's wise journey through the stars;

And every hand held a complete dripping of our laughter, and each trumpet cry gave

rebirth to the rejoinder of our lives, and as we swam through the mire; it's cold

and lifeless mess, we gained a bit of altitude

While the sea grew warm and thin, we laughed at death; we laughed at her abandonment

Of life's purchase; and through our gazing eyes, we dreamed of other worlds, more vacant

than our own; and how we would populate them with children; how we would end the vacancy

And set the world on fire with burning youth; of how we'd trumpet through the fields

With the song of God; and scream for death's abolition, and in this sea of ecstasy and

rebirth; we would carry on with the intimacy of saints, rolling through the fire as one

with the energy of a young child; and burning down the forest in our stead,

And planting new life on a bed of green and silk.

Our journey to the underworld, in complete disguise and watching one another for the

turn; the foul corruption of the flesh, as it burns; the slow step down into the furnace,

where I can see your body melt like wax; there's too much heat here; passion's sentence

So while you dream of bitter worlds, remembered on a whim of fantasy; I tell a secret

You speak of disharmony and injunction; the bitter breath of turmoil and the saints'

carousal ; there's too little daring left for dreams, and not enough smoke left in

the bath for pleas of disunion, we mantle the breasts of your youth upon the place;

There is a slow death waiting to come aboard; the kind for kings and queens to dissolve in

My death could bring the resurrection of us all; if only in script and broken shards of

fiction, the thread lies bare; and your breasts exposed to the light; while my eyes call

for the vicinity of your stay, to express the power of your voice in severed flesh,

Some whimsical reminder that youth is but a charm, bleeding on the backs of wisdom,

Through the gate, the demons howl; and interrupt the voices of men and goats; we call,

but the wise ones say, "hush," children should not enter pacts with the evil one;

It is the right of any woman, child, beast; or man, but not tonight; not while

The plague burns, and the city sleeps.

The semblance of our existence; as the clock strikes three, and all the world erupts

in a sea of chaos, so much of our lives has been spent and wasted on little things

to keep up preoccupied unto death; so when death comes, like a storm, we will be wasted

And wanting for the seas to close us up within their boundaries; and seal us into

The former state of being; to be transposed and captured; boarded and sealed shut;

within the dreams we've likened to be our own existence; feeling comes in waves,

emotion is a stagnant sea exposed to the elements; drifting violently, and completely

Blessed are the Storm Lords, for they shall inherit the earth; and make it a barren wasteland

and blessed is the name of God; who holds our children beneath the ocean's sea foam;

drowning them with great delight in an epitaph of death and ill deceit, He moves mountains

And while we sit upon our hands and plea for our restructuring; for life's breath to be

filled again, and the holy angels to deliver us from plague; each dressed element of earth

bound up with a name given from God unto His disciples; so they may plant the seeds

Of heaven into the earth's ground; and see a bed of ivy grow,

So we may see the lights dance upon the waters, so we may watch the morning's dew catch

the sun within its prismatic lens; so we may see the hand of God reaching over the sky

To make a bow up in the clouds; and then the death of one destructive twister fall.

I'm melting

with no hope of finding grace in this lost world

within your skin's soft tones, and echoes

within the contours of your eyes;

save me before I fall completely

in love

and let this end come cleanly,

don't bother finding me a way or a will

to carry on,

let the cool winds blow through me;

before the night comes

and the vultures show their wings

and the death of my shadow

surround me; with its flame

So reserved

sitting here

without the ability for touch

what movement would be born

if we could feel

each other's skin

could plant our lips

and sink our teeth into each other's wounds

The touch of your flesh; as purely fantasized among the crossroads of our births,

we linger in silent song; waiting for the retrieval of our youths to come about,

watching idly the days grow cold and bitter, purchasing for ourselves a bath in blood

A lesson for the servant's sword to sing; the blessed ivory and the cradle's wake

To sleep, within our dreams to reason; and bring about the flood of change we've always

dreamed would cover us, to deny ourselves the cup of wine as we carry out the plaintiff's

slow surrender; for the cause is grey and hasn't had the time to bury its young

Forest trees will shelter us, and the blossoms will dance within the fields of ivy;

Best, it's best we seek an answer which may have chance to come about; to play idly

dancing with the winds in the meadow; and as fortune supersedes our disconnected palace

White windows bleed red fumes, and the grey wash consumes the whole apartment

We are ready for the destitution of our days; the collapse of the kingdom, and the perks

drawn up in blood; our ink lays heavy on the parchment, and it corrupts the paper;

with its marks, and with its raw speech; its ornamentation, and the slow ring of sin

Shouldn't there be a place like Heaven here, to draw out the sins of our extraction

Wise men know, there is a fool living in the pages of this pressed rebellious text;

and when they come; when the whole world watches as the kingdom of God collapses in its

final purging death; there will be a moment of silence to pursue the placement of our

Infrastructure.

What held us under held us fast; and we became the surgeon's daughters; while through the

looking glass, I saw my name stitched upon my skin; so many regrets have come to pass;

in each hour of the dayspring; and as they roll off the tongue, one by one;

Each pressing need; each urgent hour that I come to you, take off your dress and bathe

With me in the salted waters of the sea, it's here that we will find relief from God's

injustice, and here in the bowls of men too dark to dream, that we'll find faith in

our redemption through this bit of skin and tape; rolled up for the first sin's awakening

So send us off on a journey to touch the stars; with our bare hands, with our mouths;

Like lions in a spread of heated sand, we'll mock the gods exactly where we stand; and put

our feet in the holes of our corruption, to stay our sins' execution call; to keep the hand

of God at bay, for an hour; for a year; for a day, exactly how long it will take us to repent

Busy ourselves with the fire; and with the ashes of our feet, we'll make merry

Dust and coffins, dry ice and a sprinkling of salted water, for our thirst; to dress our tongues

and make amends with the vicinity of death; two things come to mind, your love and my regrets

Past the water's line, and past our own dimension; we will raise our hearing and our ears

For one man's coming and another man's going; through the mire, before the offspring come;

through pages of our text, and through fire; let them burn, let the pages of the covenant burn.

The creativity of your caress upon my skin; the soft petals you've placed within my heart

and the steel, cold; hard thrashing steel that causes dissonance and pain within me,

Easy, love; let the strain end, and swallow up what's left of my sins

Drown yourself in the bitter yeast which burns going down; and place yourself in a cauldron,

ready for the sensual desire's purge, our minds have melted into a sea of glass, for

clarification; there's only one system to unmask, that of youth and beauty; and betrayal

Come, tie up what is left of our repetitive sins; cut loose the slacking nerves and lessen

The degree of our unconscious soul; we'll let the dewdrop fall, and drink its scattered

poison; in degrees, we'll paint the walls ivory with a hint of blood, to lessen our longing

for escape; and while we may relax a moment, there will be hardships to consider;

So take me warmly, and wet; and recognize this place for what it is

Distance is not a divider; it is not a divisor for who we are or what will come of us;

it is the past and the present which part our worlds, it is time; diluted and mistaken

for the absolute measure; the manner in which we take a cup and pour it out upon our life

So drink with me, and we will clear our consciousness; and we will be each other's bride

And we'll speak less of days and numbers, hours; distances, and let the cool water flow

within our veins; take me up and carry me to bed, and place me in the center, next to you

And there we'll seize the hourglass, and shatter it; to let the sand drop down into our blood.

In this chaos of our relationship, when all things bonded have been broken; and while

the world turns upside down with you within my grip; sentence fragments spill like blood

and the deaf ear begins to listen to the words once spoken in the dark room;

My kiss, and your surrender; my startling and your anticipation, my mood

And the depths to which you long for me; shorn up against the clock, time's capital

dressed in wedding gowns; two brides' lofty lingerie, the seasoned capture of our

commandment's heavy birth; two tears cried in tandem at the renouncement of youth

Its deprecation, and the sign that something larger than this hour should come

Two lives left restlessly wandering the earth; seeking solace, seeking revenge and

the portrayal of a God dipped in abstinence, four horns and the bridal fury of our

suture; I wouldn't call you an enemy of the state just yet; cornered and confessed

You've dredged up every word you would repeat through the cage bars; and though your

Prism lies under the earth, one can see the face of God shed through it; through

the enlightenment of the stars; and so when the sieve of Eratosthenes corrupts your mind,

And when the whole world watches you calculate the meaning of God; be warned,

There is not enough time on this earth for pleasing God and men alike.

We contain within ourselves the journey work of the stars, and as you form your

own opinion of our worth; let me interject again, how long a time it's been

to taste your love upon my skin; and how long I've been waiting to steal you

From the house upon the hill; bright lights in the attic, and a dark deep

Basement to keep our sins buried under; so let me into your home, and give me

a key into your heart; that I may come, and go at my will; and I will come

As frequently as I can; and oftener, to seize a momentary glimpse of you

When the night pedals on, and the day streams light into our shadow world,

and the evening corrupts our flesh in tones they never would have had;

So do I, part the waves and let the light within your home; to carry on

This conversation's part; in two parts, so that there may be a harmony of words

to flicker like light upon the skin; and as your skin lightens; so I may see

your beauty, and tell the world your story; as if in a dreamed reality

Spacious contours and the clothes hang restless on the rack; pleading for you

to take them on and give them life again; and I will watch the movements

of your cloth and fur; I'll pass into regression of sin as I watch with intensity

And you'll pass on and into death, while I've already passed; and there will be

Motion in the stars, calling out our names within the night's air.

Under the guise of a false reality, claiming our hearts and our minds through noncomittal

changes; our force as it is, set in stone; while your eyes bleed the paint of restoration's

systematic change; I feel the once and only time of youth's untimely death both realized

And lost to the abandonment of stars; both can come in the glory of the heavens; both can

Wheel away the distance from our posts; and should we fall, or fail to grip onto the edge

of life's entreaty; so will it be as it is; a night for the forgotten lust of our beginnings

Twice now, I stand head and foot beside myself; against all laws of physics and of gravity,

And in this twisted lie, this semblance of a truth gone awry; I've held out little hope

for God's ensemble to play within this shadow of a night, so I've forsworn my death as substance

to etch the stain upon our silken threads; to wash them in a bath of blood and semen;

While you choose the quarter of our skin, which we'll mutilate for this final redemptive act

And let the blood flow wild; and the skin coarse, and as we see all which we shall see upon

our throne; when the good lie down and die at the hands of the sinful; and a plague is unleashed

against man; against the very gods, to drain humankind of its desire for a blood sacrifice;

We've lost the gold among the kings of the ancient times; and now is a bath of blood coming

To turn the sea's tide, and wash the earth in a desecrating rift of blood and fire, while

fortune blazes and memory seeks the outcome of the dance; so little lies left undone,

so many truths to barter for; while the last hand played becomes the angels' threaded lie

So hold me in closely, lover; and tonight we'll dream with God.

With so much sexual heat; I've burned up all my longings and my passion over you,

and I'm dripping with sweat, holding onto shadows as they pass through and over me;

while the reason for our discontent evades me, I pry into the unconscious schism

Looking for a way to recognize myself in all this mess; to slow the haunting

And find duress; the passion's play, and envy's humorous requirement; what say you

of the dark cavity of consumption, the hollow sphere of death; where does it play

in among our fantasy; is it the accumulation of our fear that God may truly exist

And if so; why does our rebellion taste so sweet; lock me inside of you, and turn

The key; keep me for yourself, and play the trumpet's part of solid gold; crown

yourself the queen, and drown me in your pool of poisoned salt water; we'll take

turns bathing before the end has come; we'll take the necessary twist of plot

And dream in our capsule, the differing shades of consequence; and turn the blade

Within our bodies, until our guts spill out; it's now, more than ever that we claim

the tide as our own divide; between us lies the chasm that we've longed to see

redeemed; so that in pure white we may span this schism, and be bathed in each other's

Light; so we may touch the flesh of our enlightenment, and scare away the Evil One.

With this play's compromised resistance, the damaged parts of reason still remain

untouched; while you retain a moment's passion for my regards, and for my touch;

The fields are all drifting, without a direction to call their own; and highlights

Gather in the dust when one wind's seizure completes the paragraph more than the

others; grains and beans; a dissolved seduction of what it used to be, when we would

pass in through the gates, and let the four winds blow at once; and we would read

The beginning of the Book of Revelation; one syllable at a time, spoken and observed;

And in the tent, people were crying; in the camp they were running out of blissful

things to think, with this darkness of a plague of sin come upon us, it is the thought

that matters sometimes; and the thoughts of a dark sword swing clearly here,

So go home, take your rest; we'll need you in an hour when the ritual begins, and we

spill our seeds, and paint our breasts red; and dye the hair black as the night,

And with each category of our repentant acts;while the grace of God should flow through,

I feel nothing; and there is an emptiness in the air; just as it was expected,

the heavenly host leaves all untouched, and denies most men their fantasies exposed

into the hour of their waking thoughts; and when we do see God; it is a long stretch

To believing it is something other than a broken mind playing tricks.

We wear our hair back; and drape it over our shoulders, both you and I allowed

this mutual exclusion of contemporary fashion, and we reject God through the

allowance of the flesh, and we bite down hard against the folding in of our resolve

To embrace the countries' distance and replace our own disputes with those of

Another heart's contours, and another mind's disgrace; we float in on a bed of honey,

driving our emotions wild; as we take on the displacement of the feelings we've both

observed; and we drink the honey; mixed with milk, and pray to the gods for our

Deliverance from this vast and sinful bed that we've become attached to; the sour

Wine of the earth's union with the vine, a motion completed in the grip of ecstasy;

while fortune caves in and brings the realization that nothing else really matters,

it's just a motion of the mind, bringing up foul disease and corpses from the dead.

The pen that drips, so my body drips into the well; black ink drips, and the slighted

hand becomes a vessel for the mind's redeeming blanket of fears and loathsome dress;

while I become something simpler, something plain and perfect for the remainder of my

Disease; here I lie, on the verge of catastrophy; blind and stuttering the vowels of

The name of God; and here I lie, dressed in white for the apocalypse; facelift and

fortifications set against the mind of God, still peering into what is left of our

dissonant summer; still bathing mindlessly in the thin autumn breeze as it dissects

The soul of God;

Dust shatters the origin of our statement, driving the winds wild with anticipation

of this new direction, what will we see when the rain dries and the seasons change;

There's too much place for love within this cave of death; too much bleeding from dead

Wounds, and as I make a place for you among the seats; set in stone with jewels at

their faces, I hope that I'll remind you of eternity's transcription through my works,

Though death repel the feeling and the urge for transformation of the skin, though you

Are wrapped in the finery of angels; laying dormant beneath this carpet and the rug,

we'll bother to grip your envious smile, we'll look for a taste of irony and transfer

this similitude onto your skin; like an open transformation blessed in blue tape

With rings upon the surface of the water, running deep ; running with the winds and

With the raindrops; so much of what has been said, is said again; and the cock crows,

and the bleeding lets up; and the rain dries, and the seasons leave us wondering.

When we tap into the sleek reminder of our skin; its softness, and the death it

could have caused, I would have chosen you to touch me through the night; as passion

rolled up its sleeves and sent me off to sleep, how wondrous this feeling as I

Deny my love's last entrance, through the sleeves to the heart; and how I cry

Alone, without anyone here to take notice of me; it is a comfortable kind of numb;

and you wouldn't have lasted, through the fears and the nightmares; and the storms,

You'd have left like so many have gone before; and while you think on that; I'll say

There is no room for me within another's womb; although I try to be reconciled;

although I try to let go enough; to purchase new reality's luster and be kept,

in a cradle; by the sea. While so much regression and pain, and fear is lost on me;

How much is illusion and magic in this world; history is but a fable told by old

and scraggly men; the interrupted life of substance is what reality is supposed to be;

The journey, and the patchworked eyes; seeing every crevice of the dinner table,

So much for life's insipid smile; so much for destiny, and love; and let beauty be a thing

of real aesthetic substance; but in its fashion, we are trained to pick and choose

whatever the superstructure requires.

We pick their bodies clean, of every measure of indecision and surrender to the

dark walks of life; and in our path lies broken bones and teeth; still clenched;

and how we drop the skull and let it shatter, is a reminder of our form; and our

Urgency, too late to call the ambulance; and too desperate to let them stay in

Pieces, here among the inhabitants of the damned; it's some small tribute to take

formlessness where others wash their knives; and make peace among the dead,

You wait beneath the situation's instillment of the self, while I transform into

An angel; with great wings, clawing at the distance to the sun; if I could fly

completely, I would be weathered and unwanting of anything more than separation;

Crystalline clouds would let me walk like fire among them; and I would drown out

All what's left of my institution; reminding me of what's been said, and what's

been told in the darker reaches of the night; our urgency, our trimmed collection

Of worth; still cradling what's been left of the science of pure God in alignment

With the truth; and it's an overwhelming task; to shadow the silence with a bright

call, and it's this death of the body, the trimmed mind which oscillates like fire,

There is no male or female left within me; when I've transcended space and time.

You sing with the reminder of our state; the flipside of my instinct, and as we come

to the valley of our departure; this rotten mess of death and decaying matter,

While what has transpired here, between breaths of life has been what I've craved

For so many years, I've knelt before the altar and prayed for a semblance of God such

as this; to every post of the Atlantic shore, to each proper burial witnessed within

that boundary line; and to the others who have flown beyond, and scraped with death

I seal in my mind the shattered flame of a deathly fire; seething sparks of intimacy

Soothing the cold and shallow cause of death, and warming the bones and flesh; unto ashes,

as they were, so shall they remain; blessed by God in the hereafter; it's a dithered drop

of sunlight radiating in through the transmogrifying field; and where there's thunder

There is pain, rolled out on the bed; tears in her eyes (she's such a gentle creature)

And bent on the mystery of the winds, she sews the light in patterns for the gods;

and dreams that her will be done now and in the hereafter; that she could complete her

sentence, and carry on the extra weight of gravity's hold; to die in the fabrics of time

But not to die completely; to be edged on and pushed a little further before the drop,

so she may stretch out her wings and catch the breath of the angels underneath her breasts,

And fly; victimless; through the ever-nearing-death dissolution of the winds,

Her body pains, and her voice cries out in suffering; too much hatred endured for this

short span of life; and to the crossroads, where there is blood and fire waiting,

and life's long pursuit for happiness and a bit of death; each motion made

Eats the flesh of the living; while her call steals the trumpet, and gains in plastic

Ash; there will be light, and it will be the desirous kind; and there will be plenty

of death within the transmutation of sins; and although there is an immortality played out

upon the wrapped and plastic candles of our denied fates; so it is, and so it must be done

Unless the cradle of youth corrupt the sea; and wash her death away in an ecstasy of pure

emotive thought; and the hollow shelter we put up for ourselves be caught in a wisp of flame,

No one will touch the prescription of the body, when its been given in blood;

And as we walk, we see the death toll rise; and as we wait within the attic; we can watch

the dead make similitudes of the gods; these gods are truly dead, enigmatic scars of

What once were the pleasurable states of being; joy, heartlifting, happiness;

What stance is left to take, when all you see are the corruptions of death flowing through

the body and nothing left of mind or soul to matter, what spurning thoughts drive us into

death; with the mindset that all our sins may cost us eternal damnation, and what gives us

The right to choose one way or the other; when death is death; what happens after is just

Interpretation of the finer points of it; we will all be drawn into that same ignited flame.

The mellow strip of night's descent, and where the claim to your love lies

hidden in the arms of some great tree; destiny's bondage, and the claim to your

love lies within my swollen belly, and there's a piece of me still furious

That you came, as you came; to dredge up this moment in my mind; the soft side

Of my antagonistic despair, I wish that you had come another hour; and at an easier

juncture than this pure past as it expires; and I hope that you'll creep well

within the midnight moon's advance; expect nothing, of me and I will give you

Nothing to hold onto; just a dream, a worn out fantasy; and my youth's pages ripped

Sentenced to death by the flames, and as you steal the soft wind which blows out

upon this crystalline lake; and make the trumpeter sound as one who carries substance

And weight; I'll choose to tell you of the last who came themselves in the name of God;

And how they fell, and how they bled; and the order in which their organs we sentenced;

so bleed not idly, girl; and be not awake when the midnight strikes its chord; for they

are coming, for you; and sooner than later you will see God's face spitting on the water.

The divide, and the absence of everything ; the clarity of one small breath, unloosed

while the changes in appearance and in my emotional state of being take root, there's

too many eyes on me for me to remember how I felt before consumption of a charge,

Before I took the substance which would change my entire life; and I'm left wondering

About the will to carry on in dissonant silence; through these hammered plagues of

raucous laughter; and while I spend my nights crying, at the dilution of my life

through these few days; and how it's become another field for the chorus of the world

To sing their scorn; and raise their voices against God, and I pray: Blessed are they,

Who resist the will of Him who sent them; for they are the checks and balances of God;

and as we show ourselves through the pages of this upturned book; even as the night

becomes a light for calling into, even as the stars bend down and pick the points of

Intersection with their light, and the cusp of the world reacts; how slowly we can breathe

And how dissonant is the sound of thunder let down from above; and my seed, what I carry

within me; couldn't write or rescue anyone to the depths where with it rescues you,

in the hereafter of our souls, when the radish tops blow in the wind; their half-diluted screams

Edging off insanity's pursed lips, and the failure to react to the muse;

Leaves nothing naked or exposed, only the bare flesh and bones; only the depths of a sunken

soul; trapped within the frost of innocence, while it collapses in on her; and she jumps

to catch herself as she is falling, it's only a far and distant cry from a surrender;

Which nobody has seen coming except the slave master sitting in the sun.

The drought of seven days time; and my weary body, worn with the death of my love's last

breath; as if it were my own, I stave off religion's musky fragrance and bend at the knee;

What holy sepulchre could have trained me for my death's last perspiration, the execution

Of fate, and the synonym's chaining against this last bit of revolutionary green; there is

containment of the master within the feeding stars; and gravity's corruption as it places

its hold against the fate of men and the drainage of the beast, two small steps for man

And a giant leap for the unseen container which holds the soul; every past friend of mine

Has been caught within the grip of death's resemblance; and then there's the muse, imperfect

in substance, but perfect in form and feature; she holds within her my breath and my allowance,

to ease the flow of respiration and the drainage of my soul's defiant aperture;

One thing left to discover, one momentary glimpse to be made within the mind of the diluted

Atmosphere; and that is this: when evening comes, and she reclaims my heart, in the dried up

desert of my song; where there is only false positives and the unnamed silence grows thicker;

Should I stay and sulk in the salt water, should I grow wings and fly to my relief;

Or should I cut my wrists and watch them slowly bleed; bleed out unto the remembrance of my love.

These several lies, all wrapped in place with the cord of your unconscious mind, still

blessing through the speakers, the softest lie; to be trained and to be subdued by our

Righteous pair of eagle feathers; our flight into the unknown origins of time,

When so we speak; and hold a candle high, when so we take the world by storming of the

seas; when so we break the color scheme of truths and sexual deference; we'll make shame

as an offering and we'll break the cistern of the gods, in place of two distinct fellowships;

We'll have one only; to seek the glory of a captor, in exchange for the small sympathies

Which lie on wings unbroken; for the entrance to the cupboard of youth, we're left unchallenged;

every eye shall see your beauty, and your horns; and the greatness of the aims of God laid out

before us, and the wellness of the saints and of the perjurers, deaf from birth;

We lie here, in our complaint; reducing sin to sin and the almighty awaits His second judgment

Death lies in rings around the ashes, as the fall and we play games in the dark schism of our

world; and as the feelings dry up, leaving only matrimony's consumption to be held at truth,

I watch as the shadows interrupt your storm, and flee from the night's perception as a coin

Drops within my reach; and as I pick it up to see your face flounder on its surface, holding it

at right angles; trying to find the breadth and width of this illusion, but there is no scoring

at the surface; there is no reason I should see your face etched out upon this cold black lens,

And as I find the imperception to hold your gaze so vigilantly, it is the raw form of death.

In exchange for our youth, we turn the tides and offer something real, the beatitudes

sketched in stone walls, for our children's grief as they become adults; and writhe

within the same religious constraints which hold us bound to God; the dinner is set

And what would come of a lengthy surface for our regret collapses, and leaves us

Bewildered; too much time on our hands for freeing us of sins' restraints, there's

too much length in the diminished lot of love's quiet laughter, and as we punish

ourselves for the lengths to which we've traveled; as we cherish the plates of ivy

Dusted off and shattered; we make one complaint, the death of our forebears has

Been a long and silent ride within the valley of dust and ash, and as we see our own

future; the same as that of any race, nation, or tongue; death's consumption as passed

into being; I hold your hand, but that isn't enough, death will rise to consume us both

And as we play the foot games; as we walk along the outskirts of the mire, keeping touch

With all what is left of our sanity, and the burning love sinks into the skin's deeper

reaches; one could know, one shelter set above and one buried deep within the snow's breath

Here; in this insanity, within these arms of nothing that is real; one could twist the

Boundary lines, and make a safe judgment for the death's quiet canopy; one could fall deep

into the outskirts of a town and lie safe, blessing the God of Heaven; and captivating

the audiences of men, who hold the light of death's resolve as nothing more than mystery.

At the altar; exchanging ideas and scenarios running through our heads; the cool company

of getting older, and realizing the world is not all ours; there is a semblance and an

order underlying everything, and the grave complaint; that steel, cold and hard complaint

Where has all the fashion gone, where are the slaves to the supermarket; where's the

Daisy chained drifter from my former life; who ate cauliflower florets and staged her own

death at least once a month, between the onset of her puberty and the changing of her voice

she was dancing with the devil in a red dress; causing all the mucous from her mouth to rise

Up in her throat and drive the distance in between her and any other boys, so plain a thing

And as I grew, and as the world complained of my indecision and lack of wanting clear direction;

so I grew tired of its bickering; its madness, its mistakes; I and the world were at odds,

At least for crafting miracles; and as we fell through ashen hills, I spilled every trinket

Of my youth's affection; purged every oscillation I have ever felt of love, denial, regret;

and I pursued some holy semblance of a life; not quite pure, but pure enough by my standards;

As if fate herself were knocking at my door and saying, "let me in; I'm here to give you a real

good beating, and after that the clouds will descend upon us both," and as shadows lay across me,

And the thick black dark of death descends on me; even now, I notice how the lilies grow.

Across the great divide and into another semblance of some makeshift dream,

bloodletting and the great calamity of spilled youth, crying on the bathroom

floor; so as we show ourselves; exposed into the light, we field shadows

In our routine accomplishment of the twister's spin; breathless worries sent

Through the shores and into whole islands made for the repertoire of angels'

descent; it isn't curiosity that killed them all, it was the darkness; and they

were ready for the fall; a whole light bleeding exposure of their form

Sentenced as we are, to the fate that is provided; and as we ring the bell

For dinner's only one last morsel; this token of our God's surrendered daughter,

and as the plain marks upon the skin set loose, and unveil the drooping wings

we''re all made to bear; I plead with those sentenced to die; I do not want

To become one of them, I'd rather fly, and with these wings; soar on the winds

Of God, but light has fastened for me my only one curiosity, to match the stain

of blood swirling in the ring of my tub; the destiny of suicide's compliment

We sign, and we disclose any and all information of our death;

And mine is more bitter than the last, mine is more complacent than the first;

these dreamy eyes, wanting for some measure of rebellion to keep me staring on

into the sea of my misfortune; some wholesome scepter of ivory, bleached pure white

And to its construction causes the betterment of anger, and the torture of my soul.

In the cupboard and out of reach; there lies my future, drawn in and held by a galaxy

of stars; and to my complaint and loathing, there is you; destined for greatness before

you were born, a simple soul with rebellion in your purse; the diabolical deeds of youth

Wrapped in plastic and sold; without the want or the denial of a truth, seized as company

To Satan's lasting dance; your wings, and your dreamy eyes; not wanting, not seeing any

other option from your birth; but to hold on tightly to what you have; and what you have

is real, it is in the breath and in your arms, it is on the tastebuds and in the smell

You exude; All things rush to you like wild fire, and as they take their leave, the simplified

Reaction of their breath consumes the palace guard, nothing reacts as you do save the

cold, harsh destiny of death; are you then the black, consuming star; heading this way

for totality of destruction, so that purity may die, and the firstborn may take their vows

Heaven and Earth are full of your glory; even as you suffer, there are repentant stars

Being born each and every hour since you came; are you the shepherd of light, come to bear

the truth to all the angels of God; and to make a flood of mercury run still through the

grasses and the plains of the Lord; to poison and pursue those who would hide their heads

From teaching; are you the toxic saint, given life in order to reduce the world to waste,

I know you; you are a catalyst for change; and I see you write your name in secret,

among the stars; you are not some god sent here to be plainly marked and noticed;

you are a safety net; and a cage; dressed in the repentance of a dirty land.

You are sure; while I am not mistaken that it's you I crave for, and as the whole

of life contained within a pill awaits us both; to unravel and unleash its wanting

skin, so there I drink to ages past and their remedy; to health and death's

Accompaniment among the stars, and to the age of flesh; as it dissolves into a pool

Three blasts of a horn proceed, and make the watering dreams of realization come;

as we persist in the pleasures of the flesh, torn by fire and by the cinders of love

And ashes spilt in death; for the accumulation of our screams; there's enough of

Life's entertainment holding on; you scar yourself with the blade, and come at the

first sign of registration; to be born again, to become some sainted beast, traveling

at the top speed of light; through angles ill reflective of your peace in dreams,

Copulation becomes another fall from destiny; perjure of skin's assemblage; ring of fire

While you are walking in a bit of grass, a plot of land unbroken and whole; I still

decide what path we'll take through this event of change; and I say there will be blood;

Ashes will fall from above; and the whole body will rock and be shaken;

Every death lies in waiting for the previous to pass through; and as we challenge God,

as we take the name of Him in vain; and still our sentence's denial and mix it with

the truth; there's bad blood in the faucet; the kind that only little girls can see.

The progeny of a faith, obscured and transmogrified through the centuries; a faith

blind to the problems of this past and unforgiving year; so much at stake, so much wasted

talent given to the youth, and so many ill-perceptions of their diseases; run wild

Carried away with the scrutiny of a substance, performed dryly and at second-grade-risk

Each moment the power is taken from them; each struggle to retain the dignity and vice

of mass-production's era; we match her coldly, and with the similitude of days run dry

while wet lands run through the middle of this stone; carried in a pocket and taken

Home, placed upon her dresser; so she may dream of the inconsequential positions

Of the stars, and of the planets; so she may pick up her books and read, of how to change

her fortunes; so she may come at the midnight hour, and watch the waves of her transcendence

placed upon the mantle piece; as she grows wet, lonely; and alive, without the knowledge

To reduce herself to hours written into pages; into time immemorial; as it gazes on,

And thunders call her, and they wash her name throughout the sky; a perfect framing of the truth,

and of some crazed transmission; there is another way to ask the prophets and the soothsayers;

Than through these books, and while we pray in ecstasy's bed; with a light, we'll leak through

shadows and through glass as we come; into the valley of moss, and flame; to stagnate the body

of the sea, to stagnate life; and to fear its intimacy; to drown ourselves in our depressive frame.

We climb into the pool; edgeward, into the drops of death which make up its unearthly

substance; no hesitation, just a swallow and we'll be bereft of fears and inconsequential

shades of life; no more yearning for the falseties of shadow play and dithered dreams

Every last corruption will be placed upon the skin's entirety; and we'll go out

Like candles snuffed to the music of the spheres, and we'll make reason wanting to know

the bath waters and what they do contain; is there more life beyond the distance we will

travel; is there more substance beyond that of dark, decaying matter;

And we'll make due in the rift that we create in space; and we'll remember nothing

Of the impurities we held behind us in this shadow of a life, and as we fade and disrupt

the pond's contentment with our entrances; I'll reach a hand for you, I'll seize your

deathly form within the shades of night; and keep you company unto the answer of our fate

Death rides slowly by indecision, and what will become of us is a small and desperate plea

Rise up, and take this broken part of me; that I should not perish but have eternal life,

and that you also; should not be burned in the fire; that we may be lovers yet, of an

eternal and unspoken stain upon death's doorstep; that we may gain through displacement

A breath of that uncommon guilt which permeates all life; that we may enter whole

Through the denied execution of our belonging, and stay for the system of this dream,

resolute with inferred structure to our days; and into the flying trap of the hours,

we may scrub the planes of disillusion; and cause for us a canopy to fly,

At half-mast; just enough to bathe within the ocean's stunning glare, as we sit

Waiting for the hand of God; to reach within and take us from our sins.

Though the Pleiades revive a stint of life within us; though the phosphorescent lights

migrate our detoxification of this stewing thought process, and though we come at the hour

of death to come undone; and let the denial of the flesh freeze us here, within her arms;

There's a certain hour wherein my comfort stagnates; and a purpose to this gross, and

Chilling flame; what matters youth and calm serenity, when there is suction at the veins

drawing out the love for passion and its fruits; what need I of desire's strong arm

when there are subtleties in death which denounce passion; what do lovers need beyond the

Grave; where there is no medium for expressing love; love dies and so do we; it is a cradle

Set for the child of my womb; and it is enough for passion's display at the right moment

of her birth, then ease and dithered company; the cradling of an angel of God, without

disease; and in her pocket, she holds the keys to hell and death; and she surmises

Each breath that we take, how long that we should last; another's company, and another

Permutation of the stars, combining raw science with the wealth of mythology; our holy star

sentenced to the death of men and gods; quiet now, while we awaken the beast; and cut its

hands off twice, so there may be a moment's peace; before he should awaken; scarred and furious

Two quiet hands, perched atop the canopy of death's divide; one slumbers while the other tells

Of grander things than beauty; of substance beyond this waxing death, and my opinion rolls

above and beyond its contemporary science; my skin makes goosebumps; and the hour is nigh,

I can feel the energy trapped within this ghastly thing; and I can feel the swarming

Within the pocket of this deathly hold, beneath the baser layers; where she can swell her body,

and let the mind become translucent like a mist; and where my own divorce settles cleanly

Within the contours of our bed; where we dissolve our love's laughter and wake within

each other's fluid motion of the breast.

Your sentiment is my confusion; as we struggle with each other's minds' protrusions;

and you come clear while I obfuscate my own truths with a denial of myself you cannot

bear to own; it is this non-clarity which conforms to the static structures I have built

And so, to reap the unsettling truths which we have scattered on the four winds

There must be a lack of our unique ambitions left within us, the purging of our stronger

desires to know one another's plight within this chain of life; and we will feed upon

strangers' cold refrain and pick up the wood to place upon our furnace's pile

And as I burn the remnants of your passage into death, this life long struggle of purification

I hold within my hands what is meant for me to have, your very existence; as you and I

were meant to bear each other's pains; and I was meant to have a portion of your flame,

so is it now that I carry on the calculation of your form within my bosom;

So now it's summer, and all our wings have melted away; there's glass shining in the ocean

And our bottle has run dry; there's no place left for distance and divorce, just a string

of lights to keep us company as we pray.

Repentance of the dead; how they carry on through the recognition that their sins have

not been paid in full; the closed-border procession of the angels, as they pass through

without the company of sinners; lying in wait for their confession day to come;

And I hold me out, through that wisp of smoke which separates our distinctive tastes;

And I level to the ground my unwanting desirous flaws, as if they were the stained part

that has no reason left to tear it off; to tear the body down to bare blood and ash,

There is a recognition in your face, as you find me sitting; and there's a purge coming

From your intestinal tract; blood, and the rite of your words; stemming out into the fire;

even as the cold winds gather, there you are, sitting on a perch; devouring your synthetic

flame; so will I, when the lightning comes; be gathered in for the future of our film,

This indistinct revelry; the calf's manure musk, and a disciple of a painting shredded black

So many kids decide what's right or wrong; but where can I foretell the fortunes of my planted

sky; where can I give birth and know the outcome of my child's last dance with death; where will

I become experienced when the cavalcade comes to light; and on my own, I've given over to death

To see the stars appear more brightly in the fore than in the aft, to recognize failure when I

Come across it in the darkness of my blinded eyes; and when I should know the sentimentality of death's

great eye; when the words are stitched within my breathing chest; upon my breasts as I deliver this

last child; unto the grateful grips of death's doorstep; where she'll wait an hour for her death's departure.

Her envoy as deployed into a futuristic sun, spitting parallels with the night's departed dead;

and suffering a strain of inconsequential arhythmia; the doctor's refrain, as she passes on the

nightshade as a remedy for youth's intolerable substance; and we hold hands, as she's put to death

And we become a single body through the covenant of marriage; and we fool ourselves into believing

There is some kind of savior who can cross our path; that we may be redeemed, and I hold her hand

against my bosom as her water breaks; and I would cast a spell if I knew any magic whatsoever;

to make this idling day to last forever, one stoic moment after another; in our blind faith of God

Heaven knows no sin which the two of us haven't entertained within our wildest fantasies;

It's growing older and more obscure in time that we once desired; holding the favor of the gods,

and in our hands the right to obtain intimacy with one another; our dead faces floating on the streams

of time; as we consume the life within, and place our death in a casket for some other place and time

Death grows colder, the longer we wait for its consumption of the flesh; so take us now, before we've

Become darkened beyond repair on the internal side of things; and before we've become too far corrupted

for our faces to wear a mask of ecstasy as adornment; before we've come so far in our appointed time,

that death is the only breath of life we long for; and in passing, each swallow contains our misery

We need to derive some soured milk for our bodies' thirst; and I hunger for the rotten flesh of a lamb;

Taking in our bread, and washing it down with our wine; coincides with the first night that we met,

innocent as babes; we tucked each other in and said our prayers beneath the pillow; numbed bodies

meeting in the middle for our night's first taste of each other's naked skin, still I drown in this

Memory, and how it changed the world; and how it changed me for the worse; and how I'd now have had

anything but this memory to reflect on, for if it weren't built of fire; what substance would it have had.

The door breaks and the caterpillar's growth denies the laws of nature; two dents

in my head, and two bruises left upon my legs; one threatened shoulder to keep me

up, and quiet for a spell; And as you cast away and into sleep; the paradox obscures

The assembly's smile, and there is a bright and lasting feast for you to consume;

Every measure saved for God and the enlightened ones; each portion spent on superficial

means; to procreate the earth's bounties; to cocreate in the vision I had had, my eyes

spent on simple treasures and the radish sings her dissonant song; two turnips and their

Greens, the cause for impoliteness and admonishment; we are the harbingers of death,

And every seed taken, every arm filled with the growth of lilacs and lilies; is another

drop of death, shed into the wellspring of a woman; here, death defies all gravity and reason;

And there is no cure, but to lie upon the bed; arms outstretched and to call her as the mystic

Calls the rodents; with bread and wine, with a small sieve of planted desires; earthly,

womanly, majestic; and as each coursing madness may; speak the similitude of death's plain

grey; as earth is scattered to the fields on a whim of Satan's minions; each day pressed

Presents an unordinary magic to be pronounced; and the daily sentence burns with the shielding

Of the eyes; and so as we forget this world's request, and take another night to fly beyond

our wholly empirical state; and seduce our girl in the evening's first light, before we cast

a goodbye glare; or stage some other frightful and embellished affair; we walk on egg shells,

In the circumference for where the world meets here, at angles with the dead.

These words; they float as dead wood, traveling the fits of malcontempt I've held

against your strained and bruised body; and when we lie like lovers in the night,

I've tied my hands behind me, so that I may speak the words you wish to hear instead

Bright and everlasting fits of truth; to stain your body red, and with consumption

At their feet, to drown in a sea of blood; so much for these inconsistent rules of

paradox; and these winding wisps of faith, which carry in them some established self-

identity; so much for the sea of glass shards, to carry us into tomorrow's fading

Grace; leave my glass half-empty, and I will churn out for you my masterpiece;

A symphony of estranged delights; our melancholy mystery of nonsensical performance

played through ritual and dance, and dream; the undercurrent of my subconscious mind;

at long last, filling the eternal void; with suffering and pain; and fury's laughter

You cannot control the voice I've left within my head; you cannot seize a sister

For yourself who's better able to see the mind of God; here, lying in a bed of red

silk sheets; defying death, defying everything that has ever placed a hand on me;

It's in my movement and in my youth's undoing; you are the sun to me, and I your azure

sky; below me breathes destiny and fate; seeking the shelter of our presumed godhood

Tonight, beneath an alabaster moon; cries out nature in her torment

And we will purge our sins upon the planes of existence; and leave the earth dead

in a storm of dust and ashes; this first plague of our embittered love, poured out

So that the world may know that we've evolved.

We move in the direction of our delights, for spoils and for the feel of death

lingering upon the skin; and for love's cool and desperate flame to burn so very

bright; I hold your hand through the valley and the sink of pain, two birds

In love beneath the ocean's contaminated waves; and as we melt within each other's

Grip, none will silence us; no one will cover our faces with the dirt of lust's

abandon; none will scrape off the flowers from our hair, to leave us balding

there is a woman deep within me; who covers all the bases of a weathered youth

Lounge now, upon the highway to sin; and we will strain to make it up an hour

In the rain; And as you succeed in filling the void with an illusion of love's

last hour, the hour before the fall into a lustful act; an act of indecision

and of death; so too, I bleed the final act of our perceptive minds' eye

And motion cures only the last of our endowment; lust acts as a bond to strengthen

our resolve, and fear; fear leaves us dead in the water, drowning and in flames;

and the ordinary substance of everyday life concludes in a fit of chaos,

How my life has changed; and how the world has transpired in a fit of rage,

Left to go an extra mile through the sand; left for the purge of sin; I claim my

right to collapse into the black hole of death; to ride the sequence of my sins

Through every pain, there comes an hour of perceived truth which shall remain untainted.

We dance in the blades of death; each cut and tear of the skin is a soothing pain,

and as forgiveness becomes our final state; we wash away our sins in these stains;

and reconnect the lost fantasy of youth in our attire; gold sequins and silver lace

While in this section of our unconscious mind; we wrap around each other's flesh

With the dark side of our wrists; the side where we had stained the bed red; with

our yearning for defacement of the flesh; these deeper scars upon our breasts,

reduced to lingering pain in this transference of dead skin, to open up our hearts

To let the answers in; these truths, bare as our exposed and naked skin

What lies beyond the grave, and where our simple breath expands to fill; a slight

contradiction in forms and transparency of self; born of consequences desired yet

not now felt; we wash our hair in this sea of red; and bare ourselves in measure

To the gods; that they may bleed us unto death's defiance, and come short our

Exposure, come what may of our innocence betrayed; in this slightest face of truth,

we build ourselves a fortress made of glass, that it may shatter at a single stone's

throw; and all our being be consumed through this small action; fortune may come

Lightly; or in descent the winds may pick us up and thrash us against the hill

And as we go, our moment may require blood; and ash, and sand from the sea of ecstasy;

to fill our home, and make it presentable to the gods; so we should find a way to dance,

and stay within the boundaries of the sea; to become incorruptible and pure again.

The breath of our dilemma, as we stoke the fire of our disenlightenment; and bow before

the corruptibles as we answer to their call, so little is known of what's to come, so here

we are; rising to an occasion of rebirth; born again on the backs of stars and angels

Lest we all become like gods; and lest we all use sacrifice in our daily allowance

There will be hell, and fire; before the end has come; and I am willing to take you as my

bride; despite all of this, reduced to a ministry of pain; our rationalization built on

desperate greed and the visions of the lonely at heart; we have been sentenced and now

To carry out our disentanglement from the night; are two great rings of fire;

Set between stones and the bittersweet death that was ordained for us; to contemplate this

hour, as we see the most of signs and symbols; and the reparation from our sins, we seek

complete forgiveness beyond and above what God can grant; we have the jury's compliments

And we live on the verge of death, these several hours; clinging onto what has come before

Don't instill me with your breath, and I won't compromise my dealings with the devil tonight;

it's for our own good that we make these mistakes, it is charitable and an incomplete serenity;

fielding stars as if they were perceptible objects to tinker with; in light of the fortune they

May bring; holy order and an incomplete frustration of our truths, tied with misery's abandonment

These closed corners of the sea, and dropping fulcrum of my eye could make anyone bleed an

incoherent truth; and lie laughing and in denial of the facts that face them quite directly;

Your beauty in death; it defines you, it is who you are.

As we walk through the valley of our dearly departed, what lies under us in these footprints

we have made; is the body of our dead, collected into patterns in graves; and what aesthetic

sins have been cast within their tents; to drive out the angelic spirits, and leave them

As they are; to relax among these strangers, and to no longer fight for breath

Come one, come all; into the night. Play for me a prescription of our laughter and our fears;

our crying fits, and those of anger and our death lies beneath our feet as we walk, and as

we fade; the forest becomes our hideaway, and the distance we have traveled into death

Another shade of red, for the mixing of our blood with ashes spent out for the dead

And as I see you walking hand in hand with me, before the urgency of thought has become corrupted,

I find my own light extinguished; and the purged fire within my veins extinct, this blissful night's

selection of whom may be called and sainted; and those who are made out to be sinners

Keeps the warmth within me closing down to its final end; and stokes a madness and depression

Who am I to triumph in this everlasting world of magic and mayhem; who am I to see the stars' reduction

into cold and youthful morning air's lights, shining through a mist of ocean breeze; I am the last of

the fallen, screaming mad; so that when the night comes and all have been devoured; I am the end

Of everything; broken by the wayside, and turned sour by the will of the night's ensemble

Dusted off to make everything again as it should be.

Slight and obscene gestures made behind my back while I was breathing and concentrating

on my breath; this recommendation for what I've had to give up in order to find you,

staring in on me; while I was on the outside making noises with my band; you came to me

To cradle me, because you knew how I felt; and there's no getting older without such mistakes

I dropped a line to you; complained at how I'm always being left behind; and the dust won't

settle; or the broken mess repair itself, how many hours I've spent wandering through life

going nowhere; spinning wheels where there's no dirt to hinge upon; and when the cold comes,

I take showers in the ice water; wishing it would melt away, wishing for some fire to take

The pain away, and cause for my collapse; this repeat struggle, swollen eyes where I was hit

while the dancer in the dark lays on her makeup; for full flexivity of God's broken trust,

I come; and what becomes of me is broken and bent, a shadow for the looming spires;

Distance makes the heart grow mellow and absolutely broken; so come back to me, my love

And when the plain night falls, and the emptiness of the sky regains its consciousness,

my true love dines on the flesh of eagles, and wakes me up in a fit of ecstasy; burning

down bridges can be quite a cumbersome way to find your kicks; and while we wait for the

Announcement of our daughter; we hold hands in delivery, while I breathe in and she breathes

Out; and there's a quietness about the place, which precedes the coming of the messiah,

glory and praise and a bit of wine mixed with soured milk; so much for the coming, or the going

Of anything of import through our times; and through the spaciousness of this vast divide.

Through thick and thin, and the innocence of our shelter; battered by the winds of ancient sin,

no home but for the abandoned playground in the yard; where we take our leave of abstinence;

and train ourselves in the flight of ecstasy, and wind our way through the valley of the dead

As our first course of action, we partake in the blood sacrifice of God's willing child

And make it our peace to come undone, and devour the flesh as if it were our own; its pleasant

draft of raw mystique; its fire burning from beneath the ground, the only one true spoken word;

coming from its mouth like the fire dripping from a heated sword, we swallow and resume living

And death becomes us, in the horrors of the night; when all the world turns black with scars

Too much death becomes us, and we're trapped among the living, living out our full desires;

and dripping ecstasy from our mouths like the wine dripping from a too-full flask; we deserve

what we've been given, which is the enmity of gods and men; poured out on our faces, and between

Our breasts; and as the night wears thin, we beg for the reunion of the stars, in alignment

With our own desires, and with flesh torn out and bitten by the teeth of hounds; in this ailment,

we obscure the truth and find within ourselves a bit of some angelic plague; to drown ourselves

with beneath a sea of red; and tonight, when the wild women say their prayers in the ancient tongue,

We walk hypnotic rings about the old and greyed dissolution of our house; and pray in tongues

That the walls be made of glass, and that they shatter; leaving bones.

You sympathize with me, and with the false bleeding in my ears which tells me I am damned,

unsalvageable parts with no contours left worth redemption; I am a synonym for sin's

corruptible means; and an oscillation between death and life and hellfire;

I ask for you to save my soul, to be a blessing for me; but you can't include me as a part

Of your own transgressions; except when we're alone and in bed, in a storm of ecstasy; writhing

in the dance of the devil, so too much air and not enough oxygen leaves me wasting; and as for art;

there's a soft spot within me for anything accompanying your waist; I'm drawn to your curves

Let there be a name for God; and let it be likened to your beauty, your perfect frame

Health conscious chromosomes; and the need for fuel to burn, and I will be the fuel for the flame,

and let there be a need to spark blood; and I will be the same, each turning of the knife leaves

scars; and these will go unredeemed, and with the loss of innocence and shame curtailed with

The doubt of my tastes unhinged; our livelihood becomes an estranged wasteland of brimstone

And fire; with chaos to compliment the works of God within my womb, every moment I give breath

to birth I can relax somewhat; as if I were only carrying your child, and not the omnipotent,

So preach on, woman; and relax, you've saved my soul enough for the time being, a garden awaits

Me; although it's overrun with death and bones; and the very destruction you acquired for me;

I will take gravity in the sayings of the saints, and bear witness that you are my companion,

Unto death, we shall deserve in one another's company;

A child of our loins and a bed to rest my head upon, with birth comes the sadness

of a lifetime; bleeding in through my ears; each breath corrupts my being in its

entirety; and though the soul bleeds absolute; I find myself gazing at the stars

With joyful tears and a birth of pain and death; the stillborn madness which

Corrupts my hours and my years, each day becomes a bath of blood to soak into,

each life long fantasy a daze in which I can relax even if momentarily into;

this seventh hour past her death, I yearn for the innocence of a child no more

Certain of this world than the next, as if we were combined in one flesh

And so I provoke the gods, with my hunger not yet satiated; I fulfill my dreams and

carry out my passion through this stain of sin; and even now, there's the death

which comes so absolutely upon me in my sleep; and there is no renewal of this life

Heaven and Earth become a drainage ditch for all involved; and the accumulation

And this vast intolerance to sin, a foreground for the past inscribed on future events;

while my mind's eye purchases its weight upon the branch of evil, and I collude with

devils this night, as flames provide me offspring yet; and my desire becomes half-

Fulfilled through the quantity of their births; Hell can await me with open arms,

While I stab furiously at the gates of Heaven, wanting to be let in; there is no room

for ghosts there, or for sinful remarks; the staff has not been satisfied by my rush

to enter; the gates are closed, and even now my awakening has been stilled to a transmission

For the dead; so they may come at my free will and languish ever after in the sun.

In the transmissions of the sun; I hear a strain of violence and one of love, and as the

naked bodies sing and dance on the television; I retreat beneath my sheets and call you

on the phone, to tell you just how amazing I think you are; and there's black bottles

Stacked in the corner of my room; and in those is where I keep the last of the wine;

Lips locked, dry, cracked; lips locked with yours take me to this place within my mind,

I'd like to feel it again one more time these lips locked, dry. So place me on a turntable

with the needle pressed into my flesh; and let it peel and burn the skin; so you can read

My unconscious mind, bleeding edges of it; the thoroughfare of my polluted skin;

And as you go, as you close up shop before you rape me; (as you've already done with your

machine); so lies the clear sentence of our youth, we have no hold, no boundaries of our own;

We are an intolerable crew of lackluster kids, not ready for the real world; not ready for

Our silent sins to stain us, set us back an hour or two; not quite dedicated enough to take

the blame for all we've purchased through our youth; but old enough to want some responsibility;

We're destined for the foothold to slip up; and the cave to collapse; each moment brings us

closer to the hour when we die; and death's substance is so very real; even if mysterious.

So I will cave in when I do; and when the clouds become a dwelling place, I'll fall through

And let the chaos of the earth consume me through the stepping stones of mechanical people,

placed in part by the gods to trumpet in the right; and carry them on for a season through

the cold and painful reaches of the night.

The burning of these ropes which hold me up; and I can't see the bottom of this well,

its dampened heart, the center of gravity to which I make my final plunge; so long,

I will meet you at the bottom one day, and we'll make love in the ordinary way we do;

To carry out the feelings of my final last lap of life, and to pursue the cravings

Which I've felt for years but was too weak to let go for; within the face of fear I've

found my strength and am ready to attain a small matter, no matter the cost; and I've

fallen through death and through life's bitter memories to come to this; there'll be

No more statues to worship, no more cradles for my bed; I'll live in the company of gods

And make my head the only place I keep my secrets; until you are born of ashes and of

flame; and then I'll pour them into you; my love; my receptacle of faith; in the ordinary

way of speaking, I drown myself so I can feel nothing; because I've felt too much emotion

And there's a time when one must stop to realize the misfortune of one's life

And say to themselves, this is change; this is how I want to spend my days, not bleeding

lonely and vacant scars into the wind; not piecing together the last drops of red for some

aesthetic form, but to pursue a change of motion that may writhe against the wind

And to bury the earth and all its treasures, before the closure of the clouds sets in.

Undressed rehearsal, waiting for the curtain call to come on stage; before the entrance

of our death has been announced, is it fair game to tour with a striking chord of music;

and does the lustful sound of our breath bleeding into one another's throat take precedence

When all the gods have spoken, is there a capital which can contain us in its skirts

And for all the totality of aspirations and dreams; just who knows how many pills it will take

to make them seemingly come true; how many hallucinogenics will we take to reduce the world

to an easier state of being; one where we can slip through the cracks and keep us open to

The truth; as truth within our eyes, is enough to keep the dogs at bay; and then the forensics

play at picking us apart; each staple ripped and each incision made, never sewn back up;

and while they work at tearing us apart; we work at dreaming something new; collecting all

our memories into a vast and distant future world; where there is no transparent sea;

But the red sea churns its body against the shores; and even now, we see a compliment to this

Everything has been foreseen; by men or gods; or both, and in the interim; is it no one knows,

what restructuring can occur to make the movement of the stars cease; or fit to spin indefinite

Who can swallow these pills, and not see the face of God; playing on the water's surface;

I drink with you the calories of Heaven, while we place tokens on the spire; each game played

sacrifices a queen; and today that queen is you; but I would trade my part, and I would take

My life to keep you company in the distant echo of the stars.

We cease to draw lines in the sand, and we consume each other's space; for the night when we

lie in each other's arms; it is a heavy place we hold, together fused within this furnace of

desire; our longings trapped in time's continuum; within this place, we've been tied

Together with strings and ribbons; and death. For tomorrow brings our resurrection

And we can't bear to be split; for better or worse, we die together in each other's arms,

begging for the gods to take notice; and to care for us as we have cared for one another;

Trimmed lies, and the stain of grace dissolved; through the carapace of death's insignia

Two temples lie at the bottom of the earth; and as for Satan's requirement, there is Hell

awaiting beyond the gates; and as for God's kingdom; there isn't any clear walk or path

which leads to here; it seems a celebration of pure randomness; dished out to the so-called

Saints, and their survival through the pains of death and the hereafter; if only love

If only the chosen were taken for some benefit to God; if there were a sentence placed which

incorporated fitness for a world disjointed from our own; and if there were a truth and

consequence for being the first born or the last to see the eternity in the stars' shadows

Some will rise and fall, while others muster a string of faith before their eventual decay,

Let the clusters of the angels portray the purity of life's descent; and let the shadows

muster their risen fortunes; before we sing to the heavens; let you and I pretend one moment's

time that there is reason in all this shadow of insanity, that there is life worth living

And let the corporeal stigma attached to life transcend, and let our ghosts behave in accordance

To God's will; what will we cannot comprehend; even so, let the music play loudly, and let the

future shine just a momentary breath; before we place our hopes and dreams in death's loud

compass; and turn ourselves away, and sing of the beauty and the age of destructive dreams.

As we descend the stairs of our old apartment, letting go of memories acquired since birth;

and distancing ourselves from each other; I bend my hat while crying; I break a glass and

see through the prisms of its structure, how the lenses make for melting into a slow pulse

And the pheromones extracted from the skin ; and how they dance upon the surface of the wind;

Our pulse combined with the death of God, as well as secret science; enough to foretell the

old ways from the new; enough to send off reason's sins into a retroactive chemical explosion

You plant your lips on mine; but I can't afford this level of attraction; but I do,

And I give in to you. The cold stare of the furnace, unlit ; and without any heat to bend the

lengths of reality's exposure; let's light ourselves with heat; here, in the forgotten tombs

of death, where memory collapses and the bite of reality stings; such pain!

So hold me, against these bars of truth; and do not let me go, until I am naked and exposed

to you; do not let me go, until I've given you the whole of your desires; and then take a grain

or two more, for old time's sake; and I will bleed out upon the floor with my disease

Holding onto the token of a past life, without love or regret; without much pain and suffering

And I'll steer into your refinery; and make a pact with the devil to watch me wilt and bend,

be broken and capture the incitement of the crowds; and they will laugh as I go under,

as I make my bed with death; and rise, a willing serpent of the Lord.

With lovers, as they quarrel, and as they migrate to separate corners of the earth;

in our expanse of time, we've cradles and we've cared for one another's dreams;

So open the ocean, and let the house flood; here maybe we can find a sentence of

Permission, maybe we will find our lives in ruins; and we can take the reigns to some

other form of expression; perhaps we'll find a bit of steel to carry on our transgressions

And migrate into some new, exotic path together; where we can live like lovers still;

So much rain comes, in the evening before we burst the boundary lines; so many tears fall,

as we make due with what we have restored; and as the earth opens up to swallow us,

within our home, our shelter from this fantasy of youth; there's no more love left

To bring us into line, and carry us on into the fiery sky; every last drop of blood

Has been spent, opening the doorway to this collage of dreams. And in the face of death,

I scream, and I dance; and there's a bitter pill I've taken to ease my passing; so fare

well, my love; and let this distance between us spill out into the morning sun,

So it may laugh as we cry; and set the example of the midday song; even after everything,

I still hold onto the idea that we could love again, and be saved through the fire of our

breath; take down the cradle and purge ourselves of everything we've cherished; and make

room for youth's entertainment; we can salvage the storehouse; and make things right.

Throughout our wedding days, while you remained my morning star; and shone with pure and

violent light against my face, at times I couldn't offer you my love; at times it was too

much to ask to sing you off to sleep, but I resisted the straight and narrow path

And for you, I placed myself in the bathtub; to make markings on the walls while I sang

But couldn't come when you called, because at first light; I was frightened of the pages

of this book; so I took it inside, and wrote my own aesthetic version; I synchronized

my mind with its calm, appealing grace; and as we wore thin our makeup; and began to

Steal each other's clothes, like sisters; like mother and daughter; I gave you my own

And as we walked through the candle shop; smelling all the pieces I would want you to

buy for me, and showing you the price tags on the underneaths; I would melt these for you;

I'd have taken them home and given them in offering, for our pleasure I would burn

And now, while we lay burning in the sun; beneath the great hot sun; on our towels,

With the essence of perfume and tanning lotion; and death. I rise to greet you in the sand,

to compliment your swimsuit and how it fits you so perfectly, and I raise up my glass;

Everything shatters in the end.

And there is no state or station to hold us in together; there's only time, and passing;

and while all things pass through, we must not hold on to those closest to us; because

in the end; there is no permanency of being; it is a deception and a lie; causality

And consumption of our split before the fall; and the death of everything transpires.

From the valley by the sea, I take you in; and hold you, blessed by the comfort of my shoulder,

you unravel; speaking words of dignity and light surreptitious sounds, as I go down into the

water's edge and take my time submerging; there is an elegant flow here, in this place

To make our home; to take our breath away, and shadow the unknown with speech; lies longing

To be freed from the tongue; her essence known as purity corrupts the stars above us; I find

my faith in God here, among the waters and the sand; and for a fraction of a moment I see the

rhythm of the night played out upon your flesh; for dozing and estranged stars, I wonder why

Your curves could hold the symphony of reality's luster; and why the angels' dew holds Heaven

In a teardrop of bliss; cold winds stir, here at the edge of the earth, and as we pass into

new knowledge and the breath of life; there's some new god walking on the waters; in this crisp

cold air, stirring my loins up with the body of my desires; and yet I pass through the waters

Unscathed, with disappointment leaking in through my hands; the body stirs but I, my soul regrets

And the pinnacle of my day is this regression, into sins' past lurking amusement; as it pertains

to dreams and memory alike, soft petals hung to dry amid the morning light; you take me in your arms,

And I find the comfort of your shoulder the perfect drop of Heaven to hold onto; and as we walk

plainly through the eye of God; and see more clearly why we were meant to overshadow our own youth;

I drink the distance here between us; this void; and breathe in the succulent taste of unconscious thought.

The beauty of a nail ripped through flesh; the beauty of a foreign object gouged through

the eyes of a youth too young to realize what lies in truth manifest through reason's sin

And we captivate the audience with spurs of thunder and peeling lights across the stage;

There's no reunion of angelic wants and desires left within our gates; each plain sentence

poured out through a cup of ceremony's stylistic curves; the heavy creme sentenced to the

top; while you make me feel young again, your laughter stirs me up and drenches me with

Blood, rushing to my head and to my heart; on silent days when the wind is still, I see you

Matched in every way with me; and when our dress is set in stone, in the rebellious undertones

I wash myself clean of you; for my decay leaves the suffering of youth behind; and my ambition

turns a blind eye to the charity of our unremembered holiday; still we creep through our

Malicious tithings; and we rake in the dissonant sounds of our ancestry; and we pull swords

Against each other's throats, humming the tune of the Almighty's paradise song; while surrounded

by the host of demons we once said grace for; and in the company of saints whose flesh we tore

off in symbolic supper, and had communion with; each living thing a reminder of our separate seas

Washing off our feet, and placing at odds our incomplete discovery of life's involvement.

In this vast sea of repentant fears, and anger's work; when you were but a child and I was

your elder; we set foot inside a boat, two stories: one of our collapse and the other of

our rising faith; where we set foot was too shoddy a construction to replace with the threat

Of overturning; but we made due, and we sailed our ship through shallow waters as the sirens

Came to life; and on the shores of their foul pitch, we sprang our leak; and held tight to

one another as the ship turned over; and crashed into the rocks, and as our desires edged

into deep passionate love; we made a pact with the devil, to this day onward; we have caused

A great divide in heaven, as the older and the younger of us has turned; and spread our wings

More closely to the sun than any other creature; with you, I'm left feeling alone and shared

among the many; some whore, or some enlightened fraud stripped bare; and to you the ocean makes

its due waves, and they lap against the shallow edge where we once planted feet

Parallels in dreams and shadows, frosting swollen on the cake of our marriage; our wedding night

Bestowed on us a sea of serenity; and to this iron cast, I make my peace; the semblance of a god;

set in metal, and purchased for the price of our endearment to one another; and we give offerings

and thanks to this unholy sculpture set in metal; rising to its form and asking its forgiveness

What other God is there; who hears our prayers, and comes to offer comfort in the night's wash

Souls may bleed, but the irony of the dead is cast off; so let me be your shelter, that we may

purge the stain of sin from out our wombs; and may bleed freely among the stars.

Within the shelter of my sanity, I disregard the truth and offer lies for my consumption;

I live in fantasy, despite the regulation of our lives; the little things which bring us back

so that we may not drift too far; I live in love's great tangled mess of hair

Spinning on the wheels of fortune and insanity, and though I ride; I recognize these failures

And sanctify myself in a bit of truth; daring to identify as master before the slaves of love,

I'm a quiet girl; breathing in backwards in accordance with the efforts to unveil my life's

work; I live in shadows, despite the only plain truths coming out of my mouth are blasphemies

I work at being hard to understand; while in a fraction of a moment gone past; nothing changes,

Except perhaps the color of my eyes; these stay hidden and remiss of beauty's density; I swallow

my sins and keep them in my bowels where they belong; exposing them in the darkness of my cavity,

And we buy bread and wine, and repent against our greater sins; while you and I smile,

Missing each the other's lustful appetite; causality and corruption stirs in my mind, and in yours;

so that we may be remembered as the other sinner, the one which was told of in the past tense;

eating on the one hand, the holy sacrament to God; and on the other hand, the sinner's delight

While we make love beneath the apple tree, in the center of all God's gravity; each denying nothing

to the other's wants; we open up our shelves with The Holy Bible tucked inside; and I read you my

favorite passages while you adore my naked body and wash it with your tears of joy and ecstasy;

"What's missing is the baptist," I say, and we surrender ourselves to the sea.

I breathe you in piecewise, and let your skin tantalize my tongue; for all the remembered

faces you have struck within the dark, I see through miles of anticipation and let laugh;

It wouldn't be enough to see you smoldering in the darkness of my mind, your fire ready

To consume my flesh with lust's desire, there has to be something more than the touch of your

skin, feeding me; what white lights brightly regard our cistern, where we keep our fluids

clean, my body and your blood; and the sins staining our sheets, what well will keep us

Reminiscing of the broken flood walls, and the boundary separating life from death;

You hold your hand even with the ground, while I let fly my own; as if on wings, to trumpet

through the marsh and set my body alight; with magic, but magic doesn't last; and neither

do words, yet they are all we have to keep each other warm; warm words and dirty fantasies

Break the candle into pieces, and throw it in the fire; let the body melt; let it burn

While so much of lies are spent, cradling the unknown flask of death; asking those forgiven

to hold on, and stay in pieces spent for the reproduction of this masterpiece; an ancient

grave, tended by the guard; so we may spill ourselves into the pool and recreate its function

Wild storms sing their evanescent charm; feelings stray, and magic reproduces our desire

And while the furniture may make a lightning scar upon this room's decision points; we take

care to leave what we have worn; our light and see-through robes; scattered on the floor.

We sentence ourselves to the truth; and unencumbering lies, as they may migrate with the flock;

and the burden of the handsome dove lies solely on your back, I wear our rings of revolutionary

dreams; and I partake of the dinner you have set for the both of us; in this lounge, beneath the

Revolving sun; where shadows loom like quiet oceans, and the fish play games in the fair waters

I speak of sin; and you let out your quiet guise of patience, but I know what you're thinking of,

I know this game all too well; when I speak of the illiterate and the blind eye of a text;

you crave contentment, and belittle my frustrations; each closing of a door becomes obsession;

And I rise to the center of the table; and speak loudly enough; this is what you'll hear from me

We patch the mess with quiet silence; and you go on staring at me, like what we have adored was

truly faith in action; while I consume your herbs, and taste your biscuits with their gravy;

There never was any hope for us to find some common union; save this God, and His alignment;

I pray another prayer for our relationship; while I drink what's left of your cup, raising it up

to the sky before I do; we keep to ourselves except in our frustrations; and here you are,

dining with me beneath the old oak; thigh pressed in on thigh; as we exchange looks

And as we tire; and as we break the last of bread; I scatter my pieces to the wind;

And you grow tired of me at last.

What true life can offer, is the blessing of our breath and summer's sunlight through

the window panes; our hopes and our dreams and aspirations lie with some other realm;

Fantasy thrives when we collect our passage; and take the plunge outside of life's

Pubescent skin; we purge ourselves of our infatuation and thrive in the becoming of death;

these sentiments are shared now and forever among the sainted; where we lose hope, and become

poor in spirit; therein lies the most coveted of truths; I once was held prisoner against

My will; disempowered against the freedom's will to collapse under the pressures of my life;

And then I bled myself, I scratched out the venom holding me inside; pure blood, for all

the good it did me; even after, there was attachment to my sin; I carried it deep inside me,

without a want to let it out again; and chimed the bells of insanity's ring

With so much pain nestled in the ribs; so much heartache, I divided truth with a symphony

Of lies; and braved this new world, and its plagues; its habitation beneath the sunlit sky;

resting my hands on a woman, carving her shape inside my skull; the perfect match for me,

she was the perfect angel; ready to become my muse, but seasons last only a little while;

And as the night grew thin, I chose another; and I chose yet another for my sinless stain

Trying to ring the bell of my creation through her nostrils and her cheek bones; through her

thighs, and everything that made her a woman; and as she held her fire; and stone held its

shape, for a moment; so she lasted but a moment and was gone; my little flame.

Throwing sand into the wind, like throwing water down into the basin; we'll keep our fill

of deceit and treachery, hold fast to what they come in; and surpass the ancients when all

is said and done; we'll walk heavy and face the gods one day, when youth no longer sings

The antique lullaby of fasting and decay; the purpose of our withered words as they lie

Dormant on the skin; and in your soured face, I long for the embrace of angels' song;

to make you laugh and cry, and to forget this silent chord that's been struck into your

heart; let's make a sea of emotion and drown you in it; as I drown myself while the widows

Fare me well; there is hopelessness here, among the idols; among the cave-dwellers' gods

And all should be as it is; we'll set a sacrificial feast for them; and play within the

chalk lines, as it should be known; to be contained is God's rule; we all must follow,

there is no place in Heaven or on Earth for the allotment of sin such as this

With a dark premise, let us divide the bed sheets; you have your half, and I will save the rest

What we endure above the laws of God will be remembered, so as we sin; and as the curtain

draws in against our flesh; we'll need to expose ourselves and our nudity, and surrender

To the eye of God;

And we'll bake bread; and sing in the choir of the birds as they pass through our way;

and take to eat the fruit from the garden, it is good; for God made all things pure;

Let's break our skin, and let the blood impurify our drinks; and we'll exchange cups;

so that my sins become your sins, and likewise; and we will stain our mouths with it.

You drank a cup of toxic liquid, cheating me of the only love I ever knew; and death consumed us

both; and as the shadows tore into my flesh, and made a mockery of love, I couldn't handle this

address, I left what was holy for what was a potential sin; and hurried up with my makeup

Every hour past, I've left a trail of blood; leading to your bed

And while these perfect cuffs held me, against my will to life's ensemble; I bore your sin

against my skin, it pierced my heart and never let me let you go; you've passed on, yet you

remain inside of me; the hurried guilt that I could not make you stay; and the worry that

If I had interfered, what death would you live within; while warming your hands in the fire

So I let you keep within me, to stay warm a while longer; while within me, the temperature is

bitter cold; and dust lies dormant on the sill, where I peek out into the showers of the night,

The crows are in the yard, soaking up the moisture; cawing on occasion; cawing for you

You held me, when I was falling; when the devil took me in the night to steal me from my dreams;

and we made love that night, in the falling of the rain; in torture's hour you stepped within

my mind and slew some form of Satan, and held his head high; against a pane of glass

While I tried my best to keep the gods at bay; and I tried to hold our covenant in glass

It's been forty hours past, and forty years; since we spoke of Heaven and of Hell; and while

the groom was ready, I chose you to be my wife; but it can't last forever (nothing does).

To swallow, and to purge the stain of death; her pills for our descent; to break

the water's tension, and to breathe again within the shallows of the pool; I hold you

as an unrelated star; to outshine me in everything we do; except this. I will stay

My hand at blaspheming the name of my delights; and my longings, and my fire

And she is you; you are one and the same woman; and where there is laughter, or crying;

where death has touched with her sword; there are you, clawing to be let into me;

and as the sun sets beyond, in the horizon's pool; there I will carry you one day;

Into the western lands; where our drink will be mixed with the blood of angels

And into her sight, I'll claim a spot of land; some triumph for the gods to sever,

into these lights of blinding spirit; we'll set our bodies down to rest, within the

fire; and we'll make eternal love our question that only God can answer with our bodies

And with our bodies, we'll make love eternal through the sun's conditioned rays.

I count the ways to tell you sweet goodnights; and as I stray from your empathetic point

of intersection, I find the rays of light bleeding through my window pane; and I believe

there's something more than magic to this light mood lingering on the air;

There is a dusting of the earth; which settles down in age, and compliance gives her a name

While bringing boughs down unto the earth; while raising up the sky upon its hinges; there

is a cousin of mine, lapping up the sunlike rays of the moon; wishing to be burned by their

intoxicating shell; and I cannot divine my place in Heaven or on Earth; I think I lie someplace

Inbetween worlds; where magic cannot touch, and Hell has the only glorified power to scathe me

Dreadful dreams in the divine spaces of the spheres; golden eyes measure the landscape and its

corruption, and even I go down below and seek a store of silence; letting go of death's great

hunger for the duration of my stay; so it is with politics and emotional facades;

Lies like getting used; and death corrupts the living, we feed on an isolation of our space

The birds sing prettily enough for lands and kingdoms to compare, and the rose is ripe with luster;

should we not obtain a bit of life's reserve, and capture it in this great star above us; let it

Shine with the fortitude of some great beast; alive in the depths of a foul and distant moon;

arise and corrupt the sainted ones, and let the spiritual divide take place among Heaven's chosen

Rest assured, there is no lack of dreams to take us all into the valley of the unknown forest

Lie low, sweet angel; where death will hold you closely; and sin's comparison never cease.

What we never even wished for, and what came to be; the shock of everything, the world turns and in season

all things come to new light; how hard was it to acknowledge me when we were going out beyond the veil;

to see my right hand placed within your hand; or see my flesh burning with the desire that you hold me as

Someone who is adored; cared for, and loved; there is no time any longer; there is no place left in me

For shattered dreams and ill contempt reasons for coming home to this foul mood any longer; I'll dress up

as the sun in shining colors; and watch you as you watch me, with a smile I'll let go of the past and drink

a toast to this new god who has --

The thought was left unspoken, and the words laid to ashes in the fire; it's how we come into death,

By being laid down, against our will sometimes; into the darkness of the ever after; and even in death there is

likely a stain, a setting up of sin to test the resolute ; I believe that time is now, at times; and want to

end my life; before it continues on another step; Perhaps tonight, love; perhaps tonight, poison in a glass

And down it goes; death is so easy and trivial a matter to entertain; for those willing to entertain death;

The mind is fractured and incomplete in parts, like ripped and wrinkled tin foil; with the shiny side out,

each cusp and turn; and edge makes a score with Satan; this language is that of an old-timer's game;

What dress there is, was spent before the silver was shown; and as it is, I hold in my hands the hem;

of my perfect wedding gown; and this for evening's sundown, when I make the decision to tie the knot

with death; in her house, and dream the battery of sins for which my fortune turned, so sour.

You gave your fortunes away to the wrong woman, and as I plan my survival; to let go of you

and piece together again what dreams I've made in the past; my longings and my aroused indignity;

my shame; I place a patchwork garden at the bottom of your steps, and say to you, "do not cross,"

And in this sweltering heat, between us; I should go to find a better place to live, somewhere

Where desires can be fulfilled and the stark vicinity of prayer may be left up to contemplation,

somewhere to roam, when night fills the sky and ashes fall; surrounding me with the bright reflection

of death; for now, we'll walk side-by-side into the blue moon's empathic gaze; holding out for clear

Destruction; as it comes, and as the world begins to fade away; every tantalizing thought stripped

Into the bare bones of existence; dirt and ash; mud, and the rock-solid fields we once played within,

and we'll rise within the sea; as the tide rises to swallow us, making love in the heated pool of death;

As early as we come, the serpent will come also; to take our shields, to take what little bit of love

We've left; so sing to the mountains, and sing to the sea; sing to Heaven, and what hollows can take us

under the sea and swallow us; and while fortune bends to breaking; we can come and plead with God

For the rest of our days, spear out our survival in the quiets of this fantasy

It isn't any rest, or sleep I feel for you; there's a disquiet and a strain of guilty pleasure

in seeking out your lustful play; but tonight I leave you here, on your doorstep; without a measure

of my sinful memory, merely a gaze and a wonder for why I've chosen today.

Spokes snapping in a dark room, with no clear exit path; the wheel continues on, while my mind turns;

and so it embodies my voice, this plentitude of nothingness; and the wheel continues on; unhindered

by the small movements which I make, there is no chamber door; just heavy walls, constructed before

Time existed; it's a place eternal in the minds of men and beasts; a shower of self-consciousness

We are aware, and we are able to pick up the spear and throw it through the fire and burn it into

ashes; in the deep hollow of the heart. Pick me up, I'm falling through the Sieve of Eratosthenes;

as destiny has designed, who will be proof of number; who will fail to pass this test of sin,

And I regret my life; and I regret my failings; first to see the answer, then to quantify

And while we walk through this valley of dust and ash; I resume the building of the temple;

holding out my hands to pick up the bricks of the mire, with sludge and flame holding them together,

it's a distant rung built of cellophane and shattered glass shards; a kind of microphone stretched

Between the skins of the plastic wrapping; so we may pick up the sounds of strangers and gods

Walking through the remains of what was once a beautiful city made of gold; now it's dust and ash,

and mud; but it can be rebuilt; I assure you, innocence can be restored.

Innocence can be restored.

Hours pass in wanting, and in waiting for the seasons to change; and in your eyes, I feel a bit

of grace; sent down through the stars, and into the deepest black of night; where I collect my

thoughts and dreams, and sinful fantasies; you complete me. With your long, dark hair

Weeping over you; and with your distant dreams which I can't crack the code for

I want to take you in my hands, and give you kisses; to ease your suffering and stir your curiosity;

to sentence you to die the death I've always dreamed would so complete you. To give in to your

desires, and let them bury me; we fly, through the mist on the horizon, and we wait out the night

Ruptured by the stars' gazing on; pierced by their luminescence; and drowned in the sea's overwhelming

Reach; this picturesque world, as we float above the clouds; trying not to drown in our bath of tears,

while holding onto one another's hand; so we could stay afloat through the deep dissolving of our love's

quiet passion; so long gone from life's insipid snares; so we escape through the tunnels of emotion's

Flare, and ride on the wings of the gods; on ecstasy's trail through the sink of death

One woman to another, we seize the scepter of the ancients and proclaim ourselves as queens of the

underworld; we bathe in our sins, and in our complaints we hold onto dreams as we evolve, and fortune

sings the hymnal we have composed for our beloved; and we wait for her to come through the hole

From beneath the earth, to dry our tears and place on us a crown; we twins.

Never before have I desired you more than I do here, at the edge of death; waiting to be consumed,

and in this hollow bereft of life's gifts, I take from you your heart; the diamond necklace you wore

throughout all our existence, and I transpose my own good luck charm; the bitter sweet smell of

Death's body, mixed with myrrh and ash; baked with fire from the cinders of our old home.

The duty of the stars, to drive the night into some surreal bath of beauty; and to create a structure

to climb through Heaven's grasp; we walk wantingly for the rift to spread its width and place its

flaccid skin upon our breasts; too narrow a divide for the stiff rings to swallow us in parallel;

Hopeless benefits drive the here and after; sour samples swallowed in the thickening of the throat

Two nice and parallel redemptions, one bathed in the cold, hypnotic ice water of the holy temple;

the other purged by fire, great rings placed about the breast; leaving scars and blisters in the shape

of God's descendants; I leave you with this, the influence of the saints on the remainders of the fold,

Like you left me with child; wandering through the snow, and seeking any kind of shelter I could find;

The flock gathers, and the fortunes of our dreams left bare; we gave all our remainder to our sins,

with no life left besides repentance, and the exorcism of our pasts; the execution of our child;

Will we live in love's regress, will we play a fool; not comforted in the night, not warm and cozy

But set on by the substance of the demons, set on by fire and earth; and ash, twisted by Satan's spell;

upheaved with the momentum of a falling star; there is no drought here; no fallen ash, just the rest

and the remainder of our death; as multiplied throughout the heavens; one grasp and another shout

We recognize the truth of all what will be; and for this, revise our history to remark

The pages of ages past; have been told before and once or twice with some factual inference of the gods,

but there are pages unmarked, or torn out; there's fire set to books, words are an illusory detail;

and fiction's silent passages regain a measure of their glory through God's becoming in the days of present tense.

It's a history I can't recall, the depths of silence as they reached my voice; and stung,

while you lay there in the waters, wishing me well; and I could hear the carpet, burning

my face and my eyes; and I could no longer see clear enough to make out the beginnings

Of youth; I wanted to wash it all away, be cleansed by your deep blue waters

So I sank beneath the surface; and let my mind cool, the chill air of peppermint no longer

tasteful to me; I drowned in a bath of blood and let the foul air thicken above me, to drive

the evil spirits away, I washed the skin clean of any tears; and wrapped myself in towels

You cannot disregard my faithful eyes; that teared up when the walls began to close in

But to this, I remember pain; and I remember the cold night's wind racing overhead;

the bath, in silence strayed my thoughts to nightmares, and dissonant collections of earthly

desires; my pain ran through me; even now, it stings my throat; but now I have healed

Through the embassy of love's last pleading wisp of breath; I've healed, and I've succumbed

To the spaciousness of the stars' delight, and I've purged some of my demons, into the dark

abyss; where I once faced to feed, and I dry my eyes sparingly; in hopes of staying clean,

even when the wind picks up, I steady myself against the breeze, with her body at my fore

And though she closes the gap, there is a hole within me; churning the soft matter of the stars

For every spell of darkness derived; there is a canopy of truth to bleed through it;

and as I make amends with death, with Heaven's journey; I take my breath, the long-lasting

inhalation of life's defiant curiosity; and stay my hand at the taking of my own existence.

I caught the flu when you were gone away at sea; and I undid my shirt and let the cold take me,

while youth sunk down to the bottom of the well, and I returned unfit for Heaven or for Hell;

Take me to some other place, take me to the river Euphrates; and cast me in, as a stone

And dress me in the poison ivy's wreath, paint my nails scarlet; and seize me as the ship goes

down, pluck me out of the river, and cast a crown of thorns upon my head; and I will bite

and I will gnash my teeth against a stone, forever to be yours and forever alone;

Place your hand on me, little girl; and dress me in pink and azure gowns; we'll let them flow

Like the sea, to the bottom of the earth, to Hell; so take me down to the river and cast me in;

there I'll find some measure of my youth, to tease out of the waters; and there in the waters,

I'll sip a cup or two of young blood, stolen from my wife; her scent and her life

And the impression that she's made upon my grave; I'll cast her in beside me, two women

Undressed and naked, writhing in the water's edge; flowing out into the sea, two dead souls;

captivated by the presence of their beginnings, one ivy string, positioned between them

Here and now, our measure is that of a solid cup of ice; so pure as to distill the water it is

placed within, now I go through the seasons of our company; drifting into the night, into ashes

We melt within the hands of God; and we become lighter than a feather, as if God would ever

Touch the minds of men, but we pursue Him regardless; even as we drown through the waters of death;

we oscillate and sing our hymnal and repent our evil ways; is it enough to have God's sympathy,

And the devil's desires; or should there be a rising from the bottom, to keep the waters pure.

No new tales to tell; just the bleeding in the mire, the same old story told a thousand ways;

as if there were some measure of enlightenment through poetry's existence, as if there were

some inspirational sound to cover all the meanings in the mind's diluted space

A catalyst; a muse, for contemplating deeper thoughts and dreams

A measure of some inconsistent truth, lying dead and buried beneath the subconscious mind;

I need to feel for her, and let her emotional wash pass through me; drown me in her substance,

and I'll come clean; maybe then there will be a hint of happiness and serenity;

To watch the angels fall through summer's silence, and to watch the devil's passage into stars

Blind change, without the need for repentance or forgiveness, as night rolls on with thundrous

waves, ready to burst over me; so love desires this craving of the heart; and in our passions,

we wail like dissonant sirens, waiting for the ships to pass us by; so we may sing our hymn

Even now, I see her face clear enough; and her breasts, obscured by the closure of a cloth

Maybe Autumn's quiet rage will fester through my skin; and leave me blind to passion's destructive

urges; maybe then, I'll see the face of God and capture all the necessary sin to carry out my

instruction; to be thoughtful, to be bland; to be the child of God like she had said she was

Such an indiscrete pairing of the temple to its wasteland; where mothers and daughters die alike

I face my fears, and growing older; I captivate my own internal structure, ready for the rebirth,

I dive into the pool of eternal youth; while growing beautiful as a diamond with its facets bared;

my naked skin lies empty of love; empty of innocence; a hollow structure bared for the world to see.

Within the boundaries of our states, the lines separating you and me from our embrace;

the capitals of the world, collaged with paper and glue on maps, distinct metaphors,

each with their own flag, their own animal; their own geography, written in the contours

And I accept our fate; as fate is held out for us to take, and I eat mine up with soured milk

Exposing myself to you, through squinted eyes; there is a place where Heaven lies unobstructed;

and Hell resolves to migrate past the storm, some see it and believe, while others turn a blind

eye to religious fanaticism; while others yet see in there some metaphor for holding shapes of

Dreams, undiluted and pure; each story contained becomes a lucid bit of consciousness

When the keep is wrapped in linens, and the sentence is pure gold; as it retains a feel of

drainage in the ditch of purification; I want to show you where I was this past holiday;

let you feel your way through my intentions; and to stow away the better part of youth

And keep it safe, for your eyes only; while in the sun, I'll wear my weathered form

Love contains within itself a small ring of resemblance to our past; while the azure sky

bleeds, in principle with our belonging to the surface of our dreams; wild and wet

fantasies, implied by truths unspoken; we've become corrupted or we've always been

So as I leave you here, in the valley of my stains; with clothes worn through with blood

Carry me out into the crossroads, and leave me there; for dead. I'll pick up the pieces

of my own life, and leave you with what has transpired; these scars you will remember.

Our wild collage, bathed in blood; in the semblance of some God we've never heard of, it takes

two to create such a masterpiece; it takes the whole union of every being known to man;

and in this disquieting summer, where peace collects like the rain in form above the canopy,

In pools of softly spoken dreams; I still think about the weather, and the lightning storms

And how they wore out their complaints against the earth; and there was a great shadow once,

climbing to the sky with dusty claws; it fed on the innocence of girls not come of age;

While we tried our best to preserve them, and keep them whole; it devoured every single child

And to the heavens, it cried its blasphemies until a woman stuck it in its throat; she bore

him a child, and named it God, while the angels watched on in amazement; the seven-headed beast

Through which each man was marked as unclean; and each and every woman bore his name

Let the innocence go unmolested, and let the faith in God preserve us;

but there wasn't time for prayers, and Satan's serpent stung as many as who would call

upon the blanket of the Lord; history is a sour milk, digested among the worshipers of God.

All quiet on the surface, with a tension in the water; before we breath and break the skin;

let us decide who will go first. I'll rip through the boundaries of your flesh like a plague,

unearthing every discolored stain; with my silk bandage, I'll heal your wounds again

It isn't in the water where we make our shifting plates; it's in the noise of our breath

Sweet air, speak to me in collage works; in foreign matter and substances, I'll sweep you

under the rug, into the pairing of our skins; and you will become the life of me; another

rooted mechanism to hold onto, a devout strand of recognition to cover myself with

Roll across the meadow, and dive into the pool; where your sins await you with their

Blasphemies tied up at angles, and stored in boxes beneath the concrete waves; stinted

hours turn to nights and fall between seasons; while I hold you under, watching you breath

fade away; and I draw off your clothes in your unconsciousness; and look at you

My eyes wandering, my mouth aroused; my head and consciousness sedated by your still

Beauty; is in my eyes.

And there's a false prophet speaking blasphemies when the sun arises; and at the steps to

Heaven's gate, I see God's face leering after me, when can we commit me again to keep my

sanity in check; let's round up our gods and place them in a basket; a tisket, a tasket.

Alive, beneath an alabaster sky; which sends down angels from above, and in their fury and their

rage remembered; I stifle a smile, how this whole world shifts aesthetic because of a child;

Bearing fruit, and baring blasphemies; I see their conditioned skins and their sentiments

While I, in my attire; welcome this news with open arms, as she proceeds from out of my womb;

the closed doors to Hell, where Hades has dominion; and my breasts suckle her as she remembers

who she was before the fall, and in this night when God conceived our worries and our delights

And Zeus strayed from his perch

Let all the sea glance over its shoulders, and let Abaddon wait; because of this memorial moment,

taking shape beneath my flesh; and in the rock solid fragments of my heart, I see my whole life

discolored and erupted into stars' formations; and I drink, although it is forbidden that I do

Below me, Heaven is split; and the surging of its gates tears the fabric of time

Let loose from the magnificence of what might have been conceived; if God had worked a miracle

within me; but only Satan's residue completes my loins, and the surgery of myself has been

transcended; and only unto God could I erupt this nuclear equation; the sentence of myself

Below, are fragments of a world turned dry and dissolute; unsolvable sadistic forms

While in the upturned period of my transcendent fate, I blow the body upward toward the surface;

and in this body, I bleed; and my soul shudders, and slivers of my soul replace the counting

of the stars; while I lay here, irresolute with all my failures and my unfortunate schism of divide.

To separate the silence, I need your fleshy aesthetic form to fill out the opens spaces of my lies;

to complete this causeway, I need some time to justify my worth; through the needle's angle; through

rebirth blessed by God; and to your womanly eyes, I call out judgment, that you may help me fly

Each time passed through the needle's eye becomes a cure for lepresy and as the devout hasten

To bring about the day of judgment; I worry that this is all too clear a facade for raining down

death upon a sinful nation; where were you, love; when the sky began to fall, save me now;

my body is broken and my mind has turned in disarray; unto insanity's last leg of decay

Even now, there's the blood of some dead ambassador moistening my lips; and the sound of gunshots

(Can you hear them too; or is it just me)

One stood still, while the other passed me by; and I was somewhere in the middle between both;

and as for the ferris wheel, it turned end over end and who knew which way was up; but the sky

remains still while we watch it go around, I think Heaven and Hell must be something like this.

### Ariadne

As I set about unraveling your mind, the twists and

turns as if it were your skin and I were caressing every

inch of it, and I would cradle you in the twilight's

Fire, open up my wounds and bleed over you; as if you

Were my ghost and I was sentenced to be unfaithful to

you; while you made love to me in the mire, in the pit

of the fallen angels; and we knotted our hair in tangles

Each offering of death becomes your face unfolded in my

Mind, and as decay begins to strain away all of the

child within my womb; within my heart, and I steady

myself before the fall; waiting for that triumphant

Gasp of air to be let out; waiting for your sinister

Stare, the only revival to my form that I have ever

known; let's plead for our redemption; let us pray on a

bed of ivy, and replace all of our innocence with gold

While this small bird recedes into the west, and places

Her mark upon our fists; and on our breasts; and in

our minds, refusing our attempts to stand and know

The innocence of children one more time.

The shared sentiment of our unwavering truths, divided

between us; as you could stand, so I will lie in your

bed, waiting for the dissolve to come and take me

There isn't any end to Hell, or safety net in Heaven

The ball woven around your fingers in yarn, a bandage

set in silken threads upon your wounded arm, as one

could see of ecstasy's threaded gown; we wind our way

Through death's descending case of stairs, to the bottom

And use the doorstop as a fool running into glass a

hammer; compiled lists of atrophying tissue; a cerebral

stand to leak out all our memories, into the drops of

Flame; dissolved in candlelight; in death, and in

Exquisite jars of sand, purchased at the price of red

blood; and we imagine coasters to fill each table place

And I imagine dancing on the top; and breathing in the

Musk; while you dissolve your soul in a pool of wax and

body fat, mixed with myrrh; and you dance within your

own little kingdom set in stone; I fear where we have

Come; this place, these lengthy arms unable to reach the

Sky; and heavy lungs unable to breathe the air of smoke

and poison this place provides; no better time for rest,

Than in this cave, below the sea; in this sanctuary

Where my love shines, and your love plays the ordinary

and unforeseen fate which love provides.

We share a common element, that sad, forsaken skin of

our entitlement; and I see through your ploys to empty

out the coffers of our love; I see the sad element of

Your history, entwined with grief and the knotted thorn-

bush where we used to play as children, caught on the

Thick skin; you drove me insane, while the Canterbury

Tales left me with my imagination intact; I hope for

summer's boredom and the frustration of my youth to

enter in again, beneath this sunburned skin

Were you reaching beneath my skirt, when you left the

Washer empty; and were we picking through the orchard on

that summer's day, all the vines resting in their pages

And the book torn clean through. It empties in the sky

With diamond wings and butterflies; igniting the lights

beyond the wilderness; and as they grow in creature

comforts; and as they pierce through nature's skin

The water lilies grow with pure imagination at their

Heart; so, let's ask of God to bless this condom, once

we've taken wine and bread before His throne, as a

sacrament to Heaven's wailing; and a dissonant force

And let's be friends; and let's pass this through our

conclusion, that we may unearth the belly of some whale

Hidden beneath the sands of time.

I wouldn't have the will to call you mine, to bring in

breath this lapse in judgment; or to call, or to write

what hidden symbols lie between my legs; for power or

For purchase at the cost of infidelity; I rise, mistaken

One last feast to butcher the unrighteous from a dream,

one open arm with a cyst, and a wound; both curiosities

To know God's hand when there is no hours left in life

And to plead with Him, against the calling of the fire;

is my mistake to listen to the choir of the damned, and

be held liable; false witness testimony; and a sword

Of truth, devouring our bodies in the day of judgment

Even after the fall, will you arouse my intimacy, and

let my life and my hands work their way across your back

While I breathe fire on the preacher for my sins

To be let out, and I will require patience and a shower

and to be dressed naked and in black body paint; so you

may see my failings and my fortunes; so you may see my

Scars, dripping wet with wild lust; even after God

Permits us an hour; to do as we have chosen; to abandon

trust within each other's arms, so I glide; my ghostly

form subsides, and lingers over you; so gently wavering

Against the window sill; hoping to have one last dance.

A hope in your rebellion against my will, and my wants,

and my desires; the simple shape of everlasting truth;

combed out with the season of the sun, to last and let

Our hold on reality waver and wait in the watching sun

It isn't so simple to let go of you; to let the tears

merely fall in place, as I watch you from a distance;

your enigmatic scars replaced by suicide, and the death

Of passion's divide; so soon after the score, I'd kept

My promises clean, and emptied out the dresser of your

belongings; you come to me in the night, your wishes

unfulfilled curses; bleeding in the midnight air

While I wash and scrub the basement floor of your smell

Grating clean the metal bars where you were trapped;

and as I watch the television, I can hear your voice

still waking and watching through the midnight air;

Destitute, and bereft of life's companionship; it's

Hinges bled bare for you to see, I leave you company

like you lasted and lengthened your own stay, against

the tide of insanity; I watched it take you under and

Beneath the isles of Hell; bombarding your visions with

the plain song of the night; trading your mind for some

mild decay and growth of fashion's models;

You spent your time waiting for the seasons to change.

My midnight fantasy, the burning up of seasons without

care or want, or will to sacrifice one's self to the

abandoned home where we belong, like children left for

Dead; our fuel is our suffering, and my suffering is

Losing hold of you; where I can see you but not touch

your face, or fold your hair between my fingers; this

sensual disability claims my heart; and diamonds free

From chains are always the last to be noticed, their

Touch claims my infinite directive; I need to honor you

with magnetism, locked in a thread of dreams, to hoist

up our remaining threat of sins; and dissolve myself

Piece by piece within a bath of consciousness, and glare

You are the last cornerstone of my God, blessed by grace

to have and to hold, through diabolic means; so I hold

a seance; and reconstruct reality; to do my bidding

And here, in disappointment's flask, I carry the sea

The ocean's tide within a bottle, kept dry; and heavy,

so you may see the complications of our birth, and smile

And rub your eyes clean in the salt that we have

Gathered; to tomorrow's face, and for today's

enlightenment; we'll change the stars' unwilling path,

in hopes that someday fear will form our hearts

And the noiselessness of God's drifting sands may sing.

Without me gazing in on you while you sleep; without the

stain of sin wetting our bed sheets, and without the

comforts we've grown accustomed to within our youth

With these three things, I give you my adieu; see

Plainly how this is the end of our time to be young and

naive, the world grows colder as we age; and less

forgiving; while we lay at the borders of our infirmary

Less able to tell black from white because the bleeding

in our eyes; there's no more summer days of long

silences to mop up the only spoken lie; no cherished

Time, spend hanging from the bough and breathing the

Love of a summer's last wind; before autumn presses in,

to seize this silence and thrash those who it finds;

and snow will come, and ice to take a silhouette a slave

And adorn her as his cradle for execution; once the

Blood has spoken, once the chains of grey have filled

his heart; and there is rain, and there is stormy

weather; and there's the grey and shattered distance to

Our home. Where velveteen corridors and bright colored

Lace fill our desolatory nights, and even one what was

not filled with magic could see through the garments of

the living; with all things exposed, even flesh,

How could one hide their sentences in a salt water bath.

The stray trumpet flare, beckoning my surrender to the

cold;and as the night succumbs to heavy darkness, I

unfold myself and expose my naked skin; too little

Dressed for recognition in the phone booth; so little

Death, buried in the arms of your unbelieving child;

you're so remiss in gathering up the morning, so we

confess all of our sins in the lukewarm bath water

Every last stain of our intentions laid bare, through

A rift in time, I see you naked and standing on the

beach; wearing goggles to keep the sun from ruining your

eyes; it isn't long now that we'll plant tonight's child

Within your womb. And she will see the world as it truly

Is; both sides of every coin, revealed; and we will

dance with her in the midst of the summer rain, holding

our own candles up to the sky; to be put out by water

Drops; and then the frost will seize us up; and we'll

play with the child in the midnight snows, and cradle

her gently in the soft white purge of death

Your hand within my own, is all I wanted from you; but

you took everything from me; without giving back, and

now I've gone to the rhythm that's beyond repair

False concrete blocks, bathed in gasoline and set on

Fire; and it burns me as I scream, and as I hold my

candle high; the bath of substance and misuse, a worship

of idols, and spirits; and I feel so alone in this world

Couldn't anyone call for me a trickster to play the part

As we pursue a higher form of education, walking in the

light of a pitch black room, burning with empty volumes

and their magnificence, as we perch on shelves and wait

Even after every tattler has burned up sinners' dens

The fee, collected in the right hand of God; for certain

alms, for certain peace among the people, even as we

play the liar in the broadways and the highways; even as

We stay a while, singing demonic lullabies for our child

There's no place like home, there's no place like home,

and if it's peace we wanted, we'd have build upon the

mountainside; next to God, because we all know God lives

Up there; bu there's no place like a sinner's home, no

Extraordinary life can beat the chaos past nine o'clock

p.m.; when the door's shut tight and everyone should be

sleeping (but no one is) and there's fighting in the

Bunk, and the cave paintings look not too different from

Our walls, everywhere is junk; and rational thought has

been torn out by the tongue; there's no room for purpose

Or extravagance, the mere sight of supper is something

wonderful; so let's stay here a while, and pay our tithe

And let the good Lord feast on our home's delights.

They come. To tailor me to the night, and dress me in

flames; they come, riding on the winds with no escape

And as I try to flee; they hold me down, these demons

And I lay writhing, in a body unfit for my sober lies,

wreathed in flames, I look up to the sky; with no

response there, hidden in the stars; One could look on

And see my suffering, and hear my voice cry out in pain

But there are none to fulfill that role; even God is

deaf to my screams; but you, my ancient twin; my

concubine, my love. Do you hear me now, at the bottom of

Everything; screaming out with my delight at the sound

Of your voice; threaded in the wind, save me from my sin

And as the evening wanes, and morning's dawn sparkles in

the window panes; I swallow my exotic pill, and drink

the wine you offered me, so many moons ago; and to

Drunkenness; I feel a sigh of relief wash over me, hidden

Scars, deep within my womb heal, and there is plenty

more to drink where this came from; so in silence and

self-pity; I drink myself to sleep, and curl into a

Ball, and slumber; riding on the winds of Heaven's

descent; into the ashes of a former life, transfixed

upon the fire's light as it washes over me, transfixed

Upon the plain and ordinary changes taking place in me.

All our hidden spaces we lie underneath; and we make

texts to hold our stories; with the fleeting passage of

time's continuum, we place ourselves in stages of

Rebirth; through the catastrophic failures of the earth

And we recognize our own failings in the grander scheme,

part and parcel, divvied up for drowning in the perfect

well; where sweet water lies, wholly at the bottom

Your musky smell arouses me; and your perfect figure

Entrances my reluctant eyes, so to war; and to our

rebellious night; we wash our hands of blood, and take

full responsibility for our deaths, each victim drowned

In the belly of this whale; (we shall name her Calliope)

Rest, in the waters of our rebirth; love, rest; and I

will carry on the purging of your soul from out the

flesh; and we'll contain within ourselves some moment

Of past awakening; a dream, and a story of our

Discomfort; dressed like fools in sequins and pearls,

with no cloth touching our bodies; these are our sacred

ornaments; for the gods to choose us as heirs to the

Throne of death, so we could touch the sky, if we wanted

Without the fear of our consumption gnawing in our wombs

The western flight, on wings of hellfire; as we open up

the doors to every wish we've ever wanted to be

fulfilled; with open arms, we embrace this darkness

And let go of the pain which surrounds us; in this night

Where the crows caw out our names; and the angels weep;

for lost souls in an everlasting bath of flames, we dip

ourselves into the pools of death, and bathe.

A hornet's nest lies at the bottom of the well, our

Grave, and as we fight them off; as we resolve ourselves

to pain on top of pain; their fingers revolve around our

eyes, and peel the skin back; lengthening our hurt

Do you remember before the cave collapsed; when we were

mostly innocent; and there was not a worry in the world,

So closed off from reality's construction that we

Couldn't see our nails, broken and bleeding; and as the

night grew dimmer yet, our dreams transpired; these

little dashes of mirth, to soak up all our discomforts

Formulaic roses wrapped in plastic; and a box of

chocolate-covered orange peels; resting on the table

after work; and I loved you, even as we stood here,

At the pinnacle of everything worn thin; I loved you yet

So far down, we've traveled through the mire's

end, seeking sun; and rain, and every last drop of death

Here I am, love; take me in the deep folds of the sun.

And you were tucked away, in a little corner of my mind;

and there, forgotten for a time; you didn't know what

wind would blow when the wind came through the yard,

And seeing you; living on a line, mentioning the sand

In motion, lasting fears and silence had broken up our

wings, and carried us into some silent shelter; where

you and I listened, as the cradles flew our way;

Everything drops and dies, in this world; every last bit

Of dust decays to atoms; and with our twist of fated

hours, we die a second death; the kind that no one knows

about, the lovers' last face to face vibration;

And in this perfect sin, we know what salutations may

arise; perfected in the evening glow; you name yourself

While I give you a name of my own; baptizing you with

Fire for the evening's rite, and as you know Heaven,

there's no birth by other women there; no need for

procreation; it is love which drives us there,

Your love was a perfect mess of holiday's transcription

Let loose upon the pages of my diary, no feeling older,

no density of death's defying sunset; no cold, swollen

blade to cut out my tethered heart; there's nothing to

The faces we spent, looking past each other in the dark.

And in your self-destruction, I open to you my soul;

Let the waters flow, and let the grass burn; so that we

may find some solace in this purgatory; so we may

brighten our day, and let the canopy of God's

Construction hold us in; it's never any place to take

A vow, beneath this roof of death, nor simmer thoughts

of sin; but I avow my life to yours; so let us not

entangle ourselves in too much mystery; let us doll

Ourselves up for a bed of death; and cradle the love

We spared from the beginning, within our arms; and hold

each other sacred for our vows, this silent lasting

death, where dreams collapse; and visions of the angels

Take their form; and substance, there's too much lust

Entangled on our whim, there's too much eager sentiment

staining our sheets; and while the wind grows contrary

to the western flow; I know within me, there's a shadow

Leaving us; and darkness can have only so much sway

Before the roof collapses, and the dead men walk in

lines, before the end of time; when all things are made

new; let's sentence ourselves to the death of a world

To be made broken, shattered; before the winds come.

Come what may of the muse; her silence in the shadows,

for a time; of her complete death, and the subsidiary;

Fortune's right hand, and the wheel of fate

And while she grips me tighter than before, I move to

the music of her beating heart; just a sliver of a

notion of an important dream, realized through the skin

And while I come away from her; and as she passes under

The ocean's dim and gloomy surface, I will hold a candle

out for her; that she may find my breath, and strike her

own affections against the hull; so we could be as

Before the closure of this door; before everything was

Set in dripping wax; hardened on a cold stone floor;

in September's eye, while the death of love still

lingers; the reprisal of our heartache and our pain,

As death belongs solely to those who will have it;

It is the final and the lasting embrace, and my kiss

lies on your lips, and I won't accept your death;

I won't accept the ruination of my life in this fell

Swoop of consequence, I'll ride through the valleys and

the hills, seeking you; alone and without consciousness,

Drumming at the doors I heard you'd hidden in, seeking

This last remnant of love's bittersweet seduction.

And I send you my farewell, in the post; this certain

stain still unclarified; this rotten apple not yet

chewed, I swallow every bite before I'm through; before

Tonight brings me some other muse; to inspire my thought

Within this transparent sun, I've heightened my gaze

among the stars; and reached out farther than I ever

have before; because of the swelling of your eyes

And your sweet birth, chosen by the angels; too late

For love's last inquiry; and I inspire you to be my

Goddess, holding hands with Death; you were to me the

only thing worth breaking dawn's banquet and seizing

The daytime hour; and so I trust when you say you cannot

Come any longer, that there's a truth in your melancholy

and a scar placed on the backside of your throat; fixed

vision makes me want to touch the stars with your hands

And even after, when the warlocks say their prayers

I'll be holding onto you like the forest holds its young

pushing out the reason we have won; birthing the rights

To Heaven, and to God's ascension; and our latter

descendants; we've come to far within this place for

irony's tattoo; so clarify, even as the pieces of the

Sun blossom into an hour of love's last lingering

Thought; we'll sieve the pieces of our broken hearts.

The weather has changed; and all the blossoms have died;

winter's unexpected turn, turned the world sour; and so

it's cold, and in my heart it's freezing over, the words

You spoke into my mind cannot be unsaid; and I take

Some measure of comfort in other women, and I dress

myself up and put on makeup; and dream of some

consequential abandonment; where you and I can seize

This summer's night wind; before it turns its wintry

Grip again, save me, take my heart and rip it out and

bury me beneath the snow and ice; let it melt and expose

My weaknesses; let the body ooze its foul fermented gore

While you bear witness, and want ; hold a candle up in

ceremony; dry the blood, and let the sheets soak in my

madness; then skim the top, and let the water drop

Each motion of the sun; each passing wave, recedes into

the dark, translucent sky; each moment of this

reception, carried out with flames for the resurrection

But there will be none, where I'm headed; down into the

Depths of my humanity; purging my desires and my love,

the drunken death I have allotted myself, told by

christian fires; told through death's appointed eye.

The heart freezes up, and as it sings its slow demise,

I cradle your remains against my bosom; trying to bring

you back to life; but there's no resuscitation to do it

No calm peace to relax into; just the foul waters at the

Edge of time, the vacant realization that nothing lasts,

and the end of this journey succumbs to tears, and blood

Nothing more than these two things

While fate resolves its differences with my denied

ecstasy, the truth of everything unveils its ugly face;

We were not meant to have this time together

And I bathe in this mixture, these two parts create a

solid bond; and strengthen the pain, only our broken

hearts; gathered in against the substance of time's

Remnants; these broken pieces of our beautiful remainder

And as I depart the shores of youth, and cling on to

your energy's diluted form; your innocence shamed

Nothing holds a candle to your flame, there is no doubt

That ecstasy through our passion's blood could be

relaxed; in part, or in whole; only shadows remain

unbroken when the time comes to collapse.

There's a hole in my heart that cannot be filled by you.

Even after every strain of thought we've shared against

the wishes of the midnight breeze; even after all the

strangers stopping through applauded us and our dreams

Even after you took your fill of death, and made my

Heart to bleed; this is the way of the world, this is

my dysfunctional solitude; and as we travel through the

sentence of our destructive life; as we claim our

Portion of death's diminished vows, and plainly see

What catapults us from here into the underworld; where

lies our fantasy of reconception and beauty's truth;

We fall from our mother's grace, and we carry on a new

Transcendent path; to better realize our future and our

goals, and to proceed with more caution this time; than

the last time we set foot upon our dreams.

We bathe in the blood of saints and murderers; take the

time to soak it in, to soothes the skin; I want to

redeem you for what you've done, but I can't quite find

It in me, so we are stuck at a standstill, and I don't

Mind the mathematics of our lost love's affair; I just

bleed until there's nothing left to say, and then I cry

my eyes out; and let the river take me home again

A few dark branches, a few light strands of your hair

And mystery corrupts the fallen; how the story ends;

here and now, beneath this tree of death; I'll hope that

someone calls me home again, so I may find light

Laughter yet, in the broken angles of the sun

And when I find her scream, I will know the shutter has

closed, and all this darkness will become just another

exposure to the light; as distance fades between us

And while the night still closes in around our bodies,

and the cold that once escaped out heat clings to me;

and every essence of your betrayal is laughing sorely

What face can I make to let this evening end abruptly

So I may distance myself from you, and your belongings.

Dead in the series of the water droplets, as they caress

our skins, and dance to the rhythm of the gods; they

cease their endless struggle and rip apart flesh from

Limb; it is a violent dance of death, but we survive

Colored red, the pool will no longer sustain life; be

prepared to arise; and walk on land again, until the

body finds another to be faithful to; dress yourself

In summer clothes, and be thankful to the gods, that

There is something still inside of you that beats for

her; for her perfect sway and locked hands, held against

her breasts; there is a coming out and a lack of silence

Draw the bath; draw the liquid into the basin

Love lasts for but a moment and is dashed to pieces,

and the cradle dashed into the grave; we lack the

courtesy of violence in our parts, and remain unbroken

But still, the hour comes when all things must be traced

to be gathered into a new abolition; as fortune's dream

Tempts the gods of fear and anger, and our punishment

lies on a bed of nails; glistening in the dark.

This emptiness thrives inside of me, and purchases a

side of my heart I never knew existed; it gnaws at my

blood vessels, and will not let the bleeding end

Three times stabbed; three divisions to my death

While one forgotten pulse still beats, your love is all

I ever wanted you to give; and it's too much to bear

losing everything in one sweep of a sword

Three wishes, one to end the tearful drowning spasms

And one to let you go; and the last, to find some

comfort in the here and now, to break another soul;

and scratch her eyes out with my longing and my desire

One body, one flesh; and three scars filled deep with

Salt water; burning the heart, in spasms constrained

love doesn't last; restricted by the pain of death,

love doesn't last; and I retire into the swelling sun.

The cave is my corruption, and my sin; within it, buried

lies the bones of those decayed; for which I had once

sung a song of beauty's edge; and danced beneath the

Willow tree, holding hands with Death; her clear-cut

Aesthetic lines and her naked body; bleeding through its

cavity, so life bleeds into death; bleeds back into some

form of life again; and I seize her hands, and I pollute

Her sphere, and dress myself in irons and in chains;

Until the summer sun comes down upon our flesh; and

burns every last one of us into cinders; and ashes will

lie at the bottom; only crumbly particles of youth,

Yet you will return to me, unblemished and unscathed

For of fortune's steady arms, there is no minor

holocaust for men or girls; just a steady stream of once

survivors; swelling through the sheets; and I won't take

This message to the men upon the hill; and I won't let

Anyone harm you; for in this fury and in a sanctimonious

affair; life swells, and in the bleeding out; in the

purge of death, I come into you; a tired serpent.

Take it as it is; not one sentiment more, for this

reality to play its course through your veins; and when

summer's silence comes, and the cock crows thrice

We'll be better off for feeling as if nothing had

Transpired; make the gates of Hell hold their position,

as we burn for each other's naked hold; and we can sing

a soft and supple song into the night's retardant air

Depths of transition playing out upon the midnight

Breeze; whispers in the dark, I want to wail and cry;

but there's no sadness inside; I'm numb to what you have

given me to eat, and its the numbness I fear; I crave

Pain, and joy; laughter and tears; a heightened symphony

Of the senses; but it won't come, I cannot make the

mourning pass through me the way I used to feel, I'm

dead to sound and volume; to the air's pressure,

Only a dull and lifeless peace resides within my womb.

Our appreciation worn thin and stripped bare; little is

left of humanity once the cold winds set in; and of my

scars, there's little saving grace left, for reformation

Two lies are better than one; and two grains of sand are

An open-ended plaything; one darker than the other, one

heavier; one more strikingly beautiful, compare the two

And you'll have the comparison of people; races, gender,

and their like; the swift solution to the age old

question why. And in this irresolution, I hang my hat,

There's no clear answer why one side should take

formation over and above the rest; there should be more

sense of equality; even if God could reconstruct the

Earth; it would be a cesspool of bigotry; such is the

Mind of God; And so we play with forms and judgement

calls; we play beauty pageants and my sand always loses;

We regress into the shelter of our fort; the holiday

Tent, used for scraping out dreams, fears, and anxieties

it doesn't work that well, but if we must; I'll take the

time to form within my mind, some exotic dance to play

My heart out to; ba bum ba did ly dum ba bum bum ba did.

Even my ashes desecrate my speech; and even the cold,

harsh tones of summer's ivy; planted on the south side

of the fence; keep me washing my wares; and ditching my

Last effort to struggle on and find someone who cares.

At the core of my departure from your gaze, there is

some longing still; and a measure of desire to see you

one last time; there's an echo on the wind, calling me

Your time has changed, and the evolution of the muse

In regards to fate and holding onto what you do believe,

must make sequences like the simpler folk beside the

pond; dip in, enjoy the water's spilling out; over your

Body; while distance fades to nothing, and the mire

Bleeds; one drop after another, it beckons you to swim

so here I am; in the belly of the beast, asking Satan

what good it is to come down to the darkness and let

The stains seep into my clothing; "take it off," and I

With the wine swimming through my head, obey. Gravity

consumes me; and the evanescent weave of light betrays

my good fortune, each closed candle serves a purpose

Here, within the belly of the beast; I transmute myself

Take a parable from the New Testament and weep before

it's through; and lash my tongue against a pole, through

toxic flames which burn the light-colored flesh,

Darkness drips upon my lashes; and down, seeping into

Flesh and bone, the rotting hour; the defenseless perch

I sit upon, still gazing indirectly at the sun; after

dark, its memory; and its sentiment rising.

Before the fall; when all things were in place, and

there was an order to everything; before the fall, when

chaos swept our world, and took up its reaction to our

Lives; left us with open wounds; and bleeding from the

Inside, gave us nothing that was wanting of death, but

held us close and near to it; and if I could cry, it

wouldn't come; and laughter was a strange medicine;

The blowing of the winds, like ice crystals formed upon

The midnight breeze, so pure and so seductive a simple

turn of faith can be; and while my eyes went crooked;

and my stare began to complain; there were you, my love

Driving in the nails against my skin; driving in the

Hollow nails against an already broken heart; and so you

take me for a fool, as easily corruptible as you were,

But my heart rings for you; even in this abandonment;

Cover your eyes, so you may not see the hand of God;

sweeping over the hillside, and I will cover mine,

So that I do not see the death of my infatuation.

You crave my company; but it's been lost to you, and I

wallow in the threads of loneliness, waiting for someone

to take my hand and lead me from the cold rhythms of

Despair; your place lies over the oceans, and through

The company of the tides; while I wait for anything,

anyone to fill your place within my heart; there's a

soft beating in the cavity of my chest which you once

Filled; a toxic poison so surreal, which grips myself

In harmony with death; the two lay side-by-side, this

heartache and my disease; and the pain is the only

placement I can feel between the sheets in night's bed

Cover me now, in my lonely world; and sink your teeth

Into me, come into me and drain this awful bout of

sanity's reproduction; dither the drops of dew which

make my body ache, reduce my sins to cinders; and draw

Out my blood; that I may recognize life again; that I

May sink my own teeth into you; and drain what's left of

our adulterous conception, the mystic hold which gripped

me; follow me into the ring of fire; where we can purge

The innocence that's left between our feet; that we may

Know God; and listen to the fools play by the fire.

Some threat, entangled in a web of self-sacrifice; death

It becomes the final sentiment of purity, and as I grow,

within this construct I've become; I verify my

plentitude of ashes, once I've been reduced to naught

And as the silence grows; where once I wept and screamed

Where once thi misery consumed me, and I heard death's

knocking, like a beacon of hope shining through the

cracks; of my illicit doorway, I exposed all my more

Intimate parts to her; and she lay exposed to me,

And while we made love; while I took my pills and

shattered any life that was left within my breast, I

consummated our cruelty and my decision; I swept the

Floors clean of my ashes, once I hit bottom

And you consumed me, with our cross-contamination of

toxic death; but we weren't made whole again, there's

No light where we have come; to take us under, and away;

The purge is finality, and faithless; there is no God

here, where death divides our pools; there is no company

Or sainthood, no blessings placed; upon our graves,

Just the density of ashes for the fire.

Between these eyes, our pairs; broken vision and the

migration of the soul; to distant shores, where ivy runs

wild in the fields, I've come to Hades' kingdom beneath

The earth, while you lie naked above us; letting go

And moving on, into the dusty isle of sleep's

enchantment; so little thrown into the wind; so go on,

take your mother's hand and sleep prettily; dream

While consumption grooms me, and likens me to a beast

Death has no sentiment among the rested; her eyes bleed,

and the morning star above her house shines down; Hell

Hath no fury, like an entrusted lover; whose heart will

bleed for no one except her new found friend, who takes

The ancient scripts, dividing them as torn and tattered

Parchments; so she may come on me in the night,

accepting of my love; then tear the pieces in the

fireplace; and burn what's left of the memories of God.

In my disappointment and my rage, yet I feel somewhat

flattered for her recollection; and our sin plays

death's cold remembrance, upon her dissonant night sky

Resurgence through love's quiet contours; and feel the

Disk of God, skipping through the sky's turmoil; it's

happenstance we met, and so it is our division which

cannot be kept from the dark side of the moon.

Moon's friend, and why I take the sun; our level-headed

reunion of midnight air, and the breeze which takes me

into the disillusioned state of reality's chamber

One fragmented union, and an altered state of

Consciousness; before confusion replaces anger and the

fear of death; at this divide, when the world is at its

peace; all death's ensemble, all of death's remainder

Collides with the construction of the stars; reminding

Me of what we'd had in store for one another's lives;

while chained to the bed, and bleeding through my eyes;

I'll save myself; I'll save this candle from the earthly

Winds; and see destruction as it's planted in the fire

Lonely states of being trapped in the furs of an

ungrateful beast; seeking her warmth and waiting for

derision, it's better that they not play the game at all

Disharmony and injunction spearhead an unsavory night,

And in my disillusion, I keep quiet; I turn on the light

and make my bed; and crawl within, without the dousing

of the flames; with flammables; I am not corrupted

Nearly as much as they say that I am; I am dead, yes.

But that is my distinction for the fire, my death chose

me; and I walked through, and tore the fabric of reality

away; I dusted my feet upon the prayer rug and awoke.

We take into ourselves the many planes of our existence,

and bear the fruit of our deliverance in waves of self-

regressive sins; fighting to keep our heads above water

In the pool of death, where I have drowned so many times

Reason's chance, the improbability of distant stars'

collapse; and when they do, their formation becomes a

bitter sequence to our time; yet we permit all this

And more; to permeate the distance between us

A slight collision within our structured language, our

speech adheres to some demonic form, let loose and

inching towards Hell; and towards death, in its vicinity

We wash ourselves, bathing naked in the depths;

Suffering as we walk out onto shore's end, and grab the

cotton towels; still burning red; and like light

laughter, we praise God's bitter sequence for our time

While love destroys any hope of concrete reality

And in the distant sun; as it wanes beyond the western

shore; I bathe again in this eternal death's foundation,

Likening the past regressive stream of consciousness to

locusts, sent out on the wind; their life, in my

remembrance; plays a role in death's descending path

And as I travel lightly through this awkward silence,

Every light touch of your hand brings tears within.

Thoughts erupt; and there's a cataclysmic sting to all

our worries; three dogs barking and their howls are

christened by the moon; the last shepherd's boy

Tested by a wave of fire, reaching from their mouths; it

is a cold summer's night where I walk; and where I bleed

tonight, each fragrance of the silhouette's receding

Star, blends in aromatically; and it's the dark wind's

Final seduction that has you at its beck and call, with

no room for spilling ashes and no connection to the old

hypnotic gesture they have cast; wind up once, and go

Rub the energetic skies, and feel God's laughter come

There's a place below the ceiling frame, which holds the

key to Heaven; and inside my favorite pair of shoes,

you'll find the hidden decibel to youth's great concert

All the world is a drunken fool; and hired for a victim

Shake but do not stir; my steady eyes a victim to their

goal; and my goal is to steady arms in your arms, and

hold your hand once more; for the failure of the team,

To resuscitate our poignant musical insurgence, in vogue

And crash the final victim through our voice, and into

the hell beyond us; into that great divided self-

centered sacrificial plunge; for mercy and for relief.

As most things go; this life is only temporary, and we

are scattered again to the four winds; with each new

birth, waiting for the death of an angel to purse our

Lips, and carry our hearts home; come now, it isn't

Enough to travel as a passenger, where light things move

and the remnant of our melancholy madness is voiced upon

the winds; let's bring in the dew, and shatter the

Remainds of our self-consciousness; to purge out the

Bleeding of our dreams, and make a memory too obscure

for painting in the garden while the others watch and

wait; for some semblance in the dark to carry over

Blood runs thicker, and mine thicker than most; its

Sentence carries over into the darkness, its mind

manifest against the purity of several stars; and in

time, completeness of our infatuation grows colder yet

Spilling over into the cold, unsteady elements of time

Love, life; and laughter; our soliloquy of doubts;

steered reconceptions of dreams which come about through

tempered steel and slivered ice; pierced slowly through

The thigh; my thighs are ready for you, take what you

Deserve, and give back nothing of my life; these slow-

moving shadows are just footprints, do you think you can

carry out my destiny; I'd like to see your improvisation

So tie another twist of lemon drops around the branch,

seduce me quietly in the yard; and when the winter's

solstice comes; I'll rock you to your sleep, come cradle

And come the sympathy of angels; to lie under my bed;

Intoxicated dreams, a curious remainder of who I was and

how this carries over into dormant lives; where I

surrender breath; and give the ancient scars of life to

Whom I will, first with frustration; but then through

Compassion's tender heart, and I see aliens and I see

the coursing darkness of the nether region; and nothing

of fate; but insanity takes me close to her; and in my

Oval eyes; within my heart's strain, there is a symphony

of guilt and deathly pain; calling me to you; and of

course; they've been calling me to you for such a long

Time; tempted by fate, and Heaven's dress; every small

Stain of our dissociative indecision; through the shadow

and through death, I place my arms; inside you and

through you; like the ghosts; like aether's slim

Emergent promise, landed in upon the estate of sin,

Her handed down decisions; and my replication of her

mind; the time that I've spent pooling all my incoherent

thoughts; she's been driving me mad; with my disease.

You call out in the moonlight, you call out with your

stone tied round your neck; as if you've fallen into

winter's passage, and cannot hear the storm about to hit

And there's a violence in your heart, which beats for me

I tread on easy waters; despite my heartache and my pain

you keep me company, for the fall we both will take, and

as we complete the shadow's play, upon the lake

Something in the air; completes my chord, and rings

You come, and as I fall through the thicket; as my

discord burns the more serious rhythms of the night's

watch; we lengthen our arms, and chase away the hound

Watch the thicket burn; watch the world in shambles,

Burn, and peel away; and as we go through silent fog,

some distance yet remains unbroken; a patch of ice to

tread; so gently upon; we'll make this unsteady state

Our home, for the remainder of our lives; this patch

Of ice, not wanting to be set loose; or cradled into

fire's edge where it should melt, I warned you, and I

waited until the hollow held; until the night's

Compliment had born its distance with the earth and sky.

Intrinsic flight; pathway into violent arms, and there's

screaming in the other room; that vicious cycle of youth

and disobedience, well portrayed by my child and her

Confidence in red; the reasoning and virtue's cynical

Spasms; in denial; in confusion, I want to tear the

house down myself sometimes; dredge up the chaos in my

breath and let my madness come; unhindered and

Unordained; broken flasks of flame, through fingertips

Raw bits of synthetic heated steel, as shrapnel to his

world of defecation and irregular psychotroptic taints

While I read the biography of Hitler in the other room,

Youth's form in flames, stockings and the rhythms of

the head as wine permeates its flight; two consenting

adults; playing each other's strings, more viciousness

And as the ring upon my finger replaces fear; it ought

to, I hold up my left hand; and there is nothing, not

a scratch or a dent; the right hand holds my marriage

But the left hand lacks in spontaneity, beauty, and lust

The subterfuge of our collective paths; strewn together

in one unwound tangle of a dream; clear consciousness

survives, and the tears take form; dissonance remains

Unbroken; and as you sing softly against the pattern of

My own recognition, clearly you have taken part with me,

barring the existence of our one true God; there's hopes

and lengthy shadows to call out to in the further

Reaches of the night; where you try desperately to cling

I want your naked touch, as if it were a sentence in

truest form; flattened out and spoken; no other

existence can fill my void but this laying on of words

So touch me, grasp me with your cold claws; expose me.

And make your fingers flare with the essence of your

soul; caress me, and purchase for your own this length

of death, this cool; devouring night, this madness

To see tomorrow's sunrise, and to hear the birds' breath

against the sky; an honest claim to Heaven to let the

darkness rise; and down below, I drop my dirty palms

To gather up a storm; in the depths where I submerge,

Steeping in the shadow's well, I call myself a devil;

raking in the forest floor for the answers to what lies

Beyond the grave, where men descend and find their minds

Disabled from their duties; to swim solely in the eyes

of Hell's caretaker; I watch them from a distance,

sunken flesh and rotting bones, bemused; and afraid.

Here, at this point in time; this hollow and exposed

juncture, where we find solace in today's imperceptible

cruelties; and find our way home, through the dark

These sketchings of a crab; with the momentum of a truck

Picking up the steam of past loves and even more

regretful things, she shouldn't have stayed awake that

night; she should have slept within my arms, and I'd

Have given her a bath in salt water, and washed her hair

And crawled back in the morning, into the caves below,

her home lies heavy; and I, tethered to its remains,

Her mother lies under me, her mother lies under me,

Under the sea and beneath the ocean's crest; no more

left of the scorpion's sting there; no more torrential

downpours; we'll just bury ourselves in a flood of wet

Water, and hold tonight's mass as a symbolic bribery

In blue; and so much for the evening gowns, we'll dress

in bathing suits; and with the stars, we'll peek into

each other's lies; our hidden ancestry; our saving tides

Of grace, what winded plots there are to shelter us

Beneath a sea of scorn and pain, where seasons change

so violently; beneath it all, we rock as babies in our

cradled night, succumbed to sleep and perfect dreams.

The ties when we were wet, and joined at the hip;

sisters trapped in time, with no worries or regrets,

the only face we showed to the outside world was stoic

This pain rips through me like a steel blade; cutting

And as I try to free myself from passion's tirade; our

best moments flash before my eyes, and I cannot cut

loose from the vicinity of your intoxicating love

It is a hyperbole in action; the stretching of a curve

With the sky stretched thin, and no place left for

home's hypnotic sins, we dust our feet at the doorstep,

blink our way into the blinding light of our redemption

Cradle the grave; as if it were our pillow; holding it

Closely without any signs of letting go before tonight's

redundant stars have purge what love is left; within

this cold and lonely heart; breath comes easy,

And the knowledge of this insipid fire burns heartily

The rungs of the ladder to Heaven; lay heavy on the

breast, and I won't know until the end of my appointment

if I have climbed fast enough, hard enough; to enter.

This series of complaints, and idle walking; without a

purpose or a sense, dragging feet without knowing where

I'm heading, and I stare up towards the gods, and out

Upon the clouds; and I see nothing there which can help

Satisfy this darkness welling within my soul; fortune's

shadows squeeze into my vision; and I see drips of red

Leaking past the counter top; and I hear voices on the

Wind, which shelter my eyes from the truth, and in this

madness, I see God; diluted and faint in form, holding

onto the candle of my death; and lighting it

Welcome to the world of the undead platypus; his eyes

See all within these waters, and his claws are ready

to take you past Heaven's gate and beyond; there is a

closeness you will find within his fur, so open him up

And breathe; breathe easily and swim with his likeness,

And once I've left the eastern shore, and plunged into

the sea; I take his lessons, and his clawing arms, and

enter the desolation that was my life's burning sun;

And carry out completion of my works, for fear of

Yet another disguised seduction placed in fire; yet

another lover blessed in a bed of gold, to capture my

heart and lay me down to rest; for the eternity of days.

You tore me apart, with your cruelty; and only pain

resides in the more passionate parts of my surrounding

air; my breath lies only so you may extinguish it;

In a destiny of pain and principle; we leave a mark

Only so you may hurt the thing which shelters you; only

so you may tear its wings, and let the night dissolve

into our hearts, so we may become some servants to

Loneliness; dark angels, faster on the wind than eagles

And so you may believe in the honesty of God's entitled

phrases; purchased by the right hand of the innocent

one; lengthened like a rope for all who hear the words

It's a dark, rebellious star who swallows us both;

And takes us into care beneath the sea's entangled mess,

so that we may dream of demons, and the darker things

that haunt the sailors in the night; lifeless things,

Carrying on the moment of collapse; our breath a flurry

Of insanity; and simpler truths, bound to the fate of

dissonant lies and corruptive dreams, and let us draw in

our blood; mine to you; and yours to mine, we'll be

Relatives in a more peaceful time, and warring blood

Throughout the rest of history.

Teeth, ripped flesh; the cornerstone of death's delights

And while I'm still complaining in my off hours, asking

what would come of m if I had truly descended the

staircase; and found my way into death's lair,

The battery and the flashlight; flesh and blood

The riot before the cave's appeal was broken, and into

sense; and into heavy arms, dragging us along for the

exposure to our sins; we meet somewhere in the middle

A testament of our encountered spill of blood,

The remainder of flesh's acids, swept beneath the rug,

and as it claims my consciousness; as it locks within me

the demons of the midnight moon; there's parity and form

A dressed rehearsal with the devil himself, staged

While he rapes me; I cling to what broken pieces remain,

of my soul, and as he enters my flesh; I fight to remain

Pure; if ever I was pure to begin with, a seasoned stain

Love becomes a light too obscure for my exposure;

and the beating of my heart remains an unbroken beast,

This steady wind of the night's air blows upon my back,

And I can't find any way to reduce myself to a

significant source of peace within this chalice of death

A sentence, to die; and it carries over through death

and into Hell's delivery room; a new birth, in flames

to tie what little remains of me into the here and

After; soaked in the stench of the mire; this

Technicolor dream of mine, soured by the bright lights

of communication, our hour; and our delivery into the

hands of what remains of death's serene vicinity

Several hours after, I feel nothing; no pain and no

Heart at all; just the endless drain of blood, receding

into the well of the here and after; no more marks upon

my flesh; no more translucent stains; nothing but the

Purged innocence which was remaining in my womb for you

I hold my body tight, and push; I push through the pain,

and feel the numbness of my belly swollen tight; and her

head descends; and her small frame, and her deliberation

What world is this, plain to see by the eyes; but dead

And I throw my coat over her; to keep her warm within

this frigid place of death, so when they come to take

her away; I'll be left barren, in every sense.

To take upon ourselves the right to refuse our intimate

exchanges; to wander through the shelter, seeking the

self-sacrifice of our descent; and to maintain some

Kindling for our furnace; that we may give God His gold

And in an endless tunnel of blindness, my chords cannot

construct a peaceful virtue; the lights go dim, and

everywhere I look is madness and misconceptions of truth

Darling, hold my hand, what's left of my commandments

And let me wallow shallowly in this mire of our

confession; where we can bleed and scream; and set to

ashes all the worries of the world, in our destructive

Sentences, drawn out by the fire; and placed upon thin

Air; corpulent strains of speech, ready for an

inhalation; white matter blessed with the opaque

serenity of angelic slumber; dressed with more dissonant

Words; speech is silent at the phrase's formation

And as I come into the forest; and I present myself to

your institution's veil, and as I submit; to the focus

of our form, we'll reminisce of the coventry's calling,

And seize tomorrow's paper for tonight's regrets.

We make changes in our lives; these simplistic, slight

meanderings of mind; fleshed out and given names; too

much sadness plays, and there are strings laid bare

A coat to cover our skin; lest we let it spill out

Into the cold and frigid air; I am no ordinary witch,

but I burn just the same, and in the death of one memory

in the dreams of my reduction into ash, forced to live

The lives of dreamers; hunted by the youth, by blessings

Restored, and ancient songs given new life, what remains

is madness, feeding on the flesh of new delivery; a

concordance of fears blessed with faith's resolve

And as we migrate through tomorrow's coming storm; I

sense a pain within my breast, which travels lightly

On the wings of hopeless sentiments; a rash and resolute

Transmission; a scouring pain, with blood and tears to

follow; when all life has gone the way of its regression

And death, the dirty mile; harboring innocence's feet

Tomorrow comes a blessing with the youth tied up in

silken threads; and bared before the throne of God

Tested, and turned away; rejected house left lying

In the sands of time; blown over, and cradled by the

shoreline; our time has come, and we were given an air

for breathing; a heart for turning love into cruelty

And peace; a time for making war with the holy angels.

The hollow point; or no point at all, it's where the

puncture occurs, it's where the threat of bloodshed lies

And in the ocean, beneath the canopy of stars; where I

creep lightly through the density of water's caress;

You could have handled this, without my discontented

Heart; and you could have estranged me within the

further reaches of descent; all my life, I've cherished

your right hand, placed upon my head; it gave me reason

And belonging in a hostelry of lost imagination;

But your calm skin; your steady demeanor, your soft,

simplistic lies; tell me plenty about the things you

often hide; things plain as day, in the ordinary sense

Hidden away; transcending parable or pleasure or pain.

Locked within a trunk, I beg my feet back to play;

released at the old well, where you're looking to play

some more mischievous kind game; I close my eyes, it

Doesn't matter; we'll all be dead before a fortnight,

Let us take control of what we have; the simpler methods

and the miniscule pains; our blood is our right, and our

Transcendence; the only parable I know is letting out.

Our entertainment's eye; the focus of our camera, and

where it lies; the point of intersection with the crowd

As all things do, there is an error in the manufacturing

Process; it keeps us here, waiting for the bell to ring,

waiting for the cool collapse of everything to smoke and

cinders; it's what keeps us alive, the barren push

Like the vacancy of a child swelling in the womb

No rush to emergency, we can cradle her when the lights

come on; and the dimness of the void collapses in upon

itself; the shared reminder that there is none to take

The hand of God and live to tell the tale; there is

Complacency in death; and in the sunrise after, where

we stalk the pages of our unwritten lives; moving ever

closer to the point of intersection where life crosses

Over; and the bleeding pains begin, and death consumes

The better parts of you; so dream on, dreamer; let the

wild things flourish; let the paint of the older token

self be left obscured, and dithered over; what rots

Is just another name for temporal, what paints the skin

But there's soil within these bones and this flesh which

keeps the reasonable mind left from wailing its

descendant's cry; muster for yourself, and I will take

My parts slowly and for the duration of our stay.

Our evanescent sun, left within the cold caves of our

birth; the trying ritual of swords, and the death-

defying sunset of our fantasy; curled up in pages of

Your work; buried under an avalanche of books and death

Fortune's soldier turns a head and smiles; where is the

faith of the former generations, he asks; and I cannot

reply it's too strange a scene for my concealed insanity

To bite at; there are things, and there are things

I trust not, wait not; want not for what is coming in

this world; it's all a sham, it's all some inconsistent

dream; but I would like something real, something

Tangible; with substance to acquire; some piece of death

Maybe, if all were right in the taking; or some piece of

a fantasy built up of brick and mortar; so serene yet

so real as if you could feel its touch, and to dry the

House with the ashes of the fallen; bake them into the

clay; and leave myself an heir to the throne of death;

Queen of my own decay;

And I will birth fire and an evening's bounty of

starlight; and change my name one last time; to reflect

the passage of the queen's crown onto me, and to reflect

Your smile within the soft face of my lonesome daughter.

The tip of the blade, stuck through the skin; this pain

is real, nothing else compares to this excruciating bit

of reality; its attire, dressed in the former ruins of

My skin; the colloquial dance of time's descent, my life

Spent out on a bed of poison ivy; wrapped in dark film,

traded for a stencil of some other youth's becoming;

this stain of my redemption, hollowed out in black sin

Our changes, and our betrothal; our seminary lives

Caught up in the friction of losing faith; and so we

dance the witches' dance and become some high priestess

For the flames; and as the ashes fall, and bring good

Faith among the followers; what we conceived and what we

bore was an element of pain; drinking the blood of our

survivors, resisting the taint of the elements wrapping

Against our flesh, it's summer's nocturnal sin; wrapped

In the innocence of our child; and she won't want for

anything, but I will want for more pain; and more

Exotic push against my flesh; to be swollen and whole

So, take me into your bed and plant this child I have

wanted; dress me up in a bath of red, and use me for

my desirous arms; come coldly, and in purity;

Leave your residue inside me.

The former edge of flight; where we could last for hours

between landings; with wings like angels, we broke peace

Colluded with the devil sometimes; and chose our faction

Diabolique. We ran as fast as legs could carry us; and

we bit down upon the innocent, as if they were our food;

Contemporary stitches drawn in blood; art of a new era;

focused on the ugly and the obscure, I like to wash my

hands clean of it; to let my mouth make a mess of it;

So hold me down in this reticent thunder, and let me go

For their hives, they bring the news; for their living

God; they sing the choir's song, and as they play the

violin; the gas masks drop, and cause a stir of panic

Living in the unclean sanctity of a withered star

Wholly the ocean's glow; drive me to it, let's see how

far the engine takes before exploding; it's a raw mile,

and the ceremony of this desert hill constructed, on a

Piece of brittle metal, unchained from God's commands

And when it's light; we'll take a bath in the oasis,

and calm ourselves in a bit of sea; take this with us,

and melt our hands in a vat of boiling iron

Lest the cradle calls; and all things be forgiven,

Lest the night's respondent signs be taken in for

granted; and then the old dirt draw itself within the

ash; and purge our memory and our disgrace.

Thrust. and come in; wholly marked with your violent

reproduction of our love, and I can take the purging

spasms and set you bare before my eyes

Longing passion drives the bitterness of death away

But how long will this continue; how many drops of pain

will ease my passing; before the light becomes too

bright to any longer bear; and it's for seasons' cure

The mild molested saint of Heaven; and her scars as she

Continues on a path of frailty and reproductive sins;

so many names continue to be marked upon her womb;

There is a final flight to death's upheaval, a schism

Left between the saints and sinners; she can retrieve

her satchel at the heirloom market, but she can't dive

into the depths of this remembered pool

Life in a concrete slab; it rolls you over, and over

While death's departure could bleed true with the guise

of a dead man's recovery; what is true of this life is

the denial of some sequence we may never hear in full;

Thrust. and let repentance mark its way upon my skin

That this last bleeding be the first of many more

intoxicating deaths which I succumb to; and let the

breath of this hour sink within my veins, to sleep

And hold a candle near my head as I slumber softly.

Jaws clap closed; and the innocent bite turns cold and

sours the dress of our intrinsic flare; a moment at a

standstill, a mnemonic wrapped in glass; a free moment

Hunger pains; and the ordinary science of causing death

Your false shadows carry over into a silent night, while

in death's heart; and in death's bed, I recognize your

Whisper, driven through the fire's edge like paint upon

a new hillside castle rock; the game has been in discord

While the plain sight of our tomorrow breathes; fancy

A new elaboration on the truth; set in stone, and frayed

our constant metaphor for aging and for spewing death's

intoxicating phrases through the darkness of a midnight

Bath; the crazed incompetence of lovers; too obscured

For the left foot to take in any measure of the right;

and while we skip, and while we plainly dance through

summer's night, there is an ocean of pain melting me

So intense I may not find another way to purge it out

Except by adding more pain to the pile; physical pain

the stuff of gods, candle wax and whips; knives and

blood; a sexual assault against my life,

There's no more silence when the water falls, tonight.

Powerless in the construction of my faith; which boils

over and leaves me with a mess upon the stove, defaced

semiotic symptoms; I dress in white bed clothes and

Reconsider my youth; the points of intersection with

A pattern fallen out of use; and to me, it stinks with

the touch of gold surrendered through my blood; its

scent permeates my thoughts; and carries over into dream

This toxic flavor, and the shortbread baked into its

form; and substance crawls upon the savory seduction of

its waters, the nails are free. And for this cup of

death; to take it in, and drink of the waters' edge

And purse our lips across the fluid's forefront; sip.

As the motion resumes; and life continues on, each

channel of the mockingbird's death, each simple

silhouette mistaken for the bird's last lingering dance

Even I mistake her for my lover, whose hands were bound

And in the ancient tongues of devils; we will draw our

lots, and devour the living from among us; a plain and

ordinary death for followers of God; so we pursue

Each to our own accord, the lightning of our furious

Lives; the temptress of our fashion, and our vicinity,

to tame our distance and our function as a mother,

And break the walls directly in the face of our desire.

The upholstery wears thin; as my age brings me to the

desert of decay, where waving hands show signs of

brilliant subterfuge; and there is in you the energy

Of quick, unbridled youth; the passionate sound

Pertaining to my dreams of desperation and hopelessness,

I fly free from the cavity of my bitter taste, and run

across the valley of descent; and into the cradle of

Youth's resuscitation; weathered and worn, I try to pin

It down; unsavory flask, I shout my gentle words into

your heart, dried up vineyard; cave of my detachment;

A run-through purse, spilling out every which way

Disease and health; these two play a role in my undoing;

the casket and the bottle, to spring a vault and let

the words come flooding out; my own shadow roll

Intentionally left bare, my madness; my indecision

I loved you. And as the sweet valley purges all the

waters of the flood; so your flooding of my heart

must be, I will purge you as you sing to me beneath

The golden oak; through passages of sin and reminder

Passages of love's last remaining preparation; the glue

and the ointment, and a dove; sparks of speech too

light for air to entertain them; these fits of sanity

Merged within the mind of an unfit canister for dreams.

What can save us from the final hour, when dusk comes

with the plentitude of death, and the bombs begin to fly

What then, when the world becomes a wasteland of broken

Dreams, and sentiments far too obscure for taking

measure increase their calamity; the urge to bite the

tongue, increase the pain as Heaven rolls in on the

Frontal lobe, and all these parasitic schism break

Their tendency; and the lack of confusion follows me

into my sleep; insanity drives away its hopeless plea

Leaving room for breath and hollow consumption

It's a chaos of form and isolation that brings us back

to where we were, once bleeding; and now just sitting

in the dark; hands held, and whispers of our faith

Our broken chains of charity; and our consummation

The wedding's reunion and a particle of death to make

it harder to live by; our child's, our only child's

Seek the shelter where I've wandered; into a broken mind

And ask forgiveness, and for faith's resolve to clarify

the death of the betrothed; I walk in constant worry

of what will come when the lights go out again,

And I walk into death, to see the spasms and the onset.

The end. Of what would be of life's vast gravity pulling

upon the planes of existence; our hopes, our dreams; our

Fears, and the saddling of our wrists within the chalk

Lines; our deaths and quiet contemplation of a moment's

sinister regret; and age fading through the doors and

out into the crystal cavern; where we abide by faith

Some homelessness joke; wrapped and tethered around

My foreign heart; if you could call me names; call me

what you will, just don't leave me apart from you;

As the ring rose ; through Heaven's fire and claimed

A synchronicity with God's departure; where will the

hour be, and when will time remain a silent counterpart;

Wreathed in the flames and shadows of a self-taught holy

Angel; with dissonant chords disparaging thoughts and

hopelessness, a very awkward mixture for a man of God;

Love;

That small simplistic text lying broken on the shade;

"Love," the hour's darkness and the strain on our

vicinity; a useless tirade, for sinking ships and

Heaving dead weight across the laps of innocent boys

Love, it's like a purge of fire to the western lands,

where we all follow suit the sun in her descending death

To watch her pass away; to watch her dying in blood red.

The strain of memory's forgiving face upon my own

distilled waters of consciousness; these cool siphons

coming down from above; the dithered tract of foreplay

Running through the mind's edge; and as it is fierce,

So it is hollowed and corrupt; your edge, your face upon

the still blue sky, as it were lightning, and coming

from the eye's blue crystal gaze;

A seventh wife, and the constructions of our fantasy

Broken glass, and broken promises; shattered dreams arc

suddenly against this house; and when the tears have

drowned out all those who have come before, we swallow

And shelter ourselves in a bout of pain and death

The right eye holds in what the left eye couldn't digest

While fleeting fits of rage begin their turbulence, we

are disgusting creatures, you and I; and I won't have

the wash ruined for some phantasm form; take me whole

And bring me my epistolic past; my mountain of forms

To take union with the past and recognize within myself,

the gaze of dissemination of simpler truths; the hedge

of our dominion on this earth, our constable

What wavers in wanting of rebellion, or a cane to wage

War against the youth; so many stains still left upon

these floors; and I'll take patience as your virtue,

and I'll take the hand of God, upon my sword.

The strain of my eyes, as I pull you in and think about

the sores upon my skin; where you left me scarred,

No motion and no censors to be brought against the wheel

As faith begets another strain of continuity; our four

shadows fall, within the same lines as each other's;

But there's no depth of magic here, no forceful turn of

Hand to raise rebellion through its wintry death, and

turn its right hand into a cage; and a fortress for our

mothers' eyes; but we can try, and we can sing the long

Span of lullabies; and cradle this here garment beneath

The sun; to practice for our child; if she will come,

and ease the sentence of her birth; the warning blade

of pain, and transform the migrant into a settled sin

Breathe, love; and please me, if I could sin again; and

take into my arms another host; to cause this schism of

our death's departure to unloose; to change the world

From fallen angels' sins; and redemption of the beauty

Of a bulging stain of sickened lies, fostered beneath

a canopy of truth and majesty; held dear and holy;

Where the pope lies draining in a ditch, some summer's

evening; dressed in gold. Dressed in gold. The glue

Which holds the summer's song together; dressed in

jeans and a t-shirt; and some sentence laid bare,

Born in death, and raised upon the summer's sun's heat.

Fetters broken; and chains loosed, what need for

practical magic, yet we stay our right and call upon

the serpent of the deep; and the bowels of the earth

Move inconsistently with our path, whatever right we

Choose to call upon as our salvation; there's only one

belief system which encompasses the flames of perdition,

The universal truths of death, and famine; of holding

Hands with Satan through the final hour of our death;

and as we consume the right hand of God, the sacrament

of angels' bread and wine; I see through the

Accompaniment of the stars, and conclude with the vision

Of my own right hand, consumed by the plague of death;

isn't it enough to know the species of my page was

written in the Book of Lies; and as my soul complains,

There's oxidation of the skin, purging out the truth

Of God; and there isn't any reason to hold up my head;

when all that will descend from reason is pure madness,

It's an over-arching death; come steadily to corrupt

Flies wander around me, they sting and they bite my

flesh; there's a page in the book that I hold, in my

right hand; which makes the torment cease;

Chilled by God, there is only one release to truth

It isn't any single field of corruptive stain; it's

the memory of my regaining field of vision, it's so

much less than the sacrament of being, and compares

Death with lies, and the holocaust;

Redeem me, lest my body fail and my heart begin to

lessen in its own synthetic rhythms of the night.

With the ashes from the fire spent on dusting the

blade; I sentence myself to this charade of youth;

creeping into the ordinary sunlight, with a blanket

Over my body; over my eyes; like some ghost writhing

In the daylight; I've sentenced you to the fire, and

the flames; so you may hire for yourself some vindictive

servant; I give you a plaintext version of my past,

So hang on tightly, and study every word; it is the mark

Of my memory, dusted through, and with each drop of

blood spent on writing; I'm winded with an open throat,

Foul magic breathes; foul entities, and the redirection

Of the world within its boundary points; I crave the

competition of an elder; I am deranged and my own

thoughts revolve around the heading of a knife;

Wrapped in plastic with the smell of death

No more magic, no more screams in the dark; no more

hallucinations, or wetting of the words of peace,

I see you naked in the storm; violently waiting for

My words; violent and restless as you are, I take the

plunge and bide my time as you hollow out the reason

for my absolute closure of the skin's salve.

Through this art, wherein the occult lies bare and open;

exposed to the air of some element of stylistic

interpretation; there comes a secret scent of God to

Open up the heresy involved, and to my hand I take you

Beneath the sheets; in order we may practice this

healing fire, open up your mouth and let the devil speak

through you; and open it again, to let the angels

We are an influence in this sphere of death and decay

I motion to your eyes, to follow me; through the Hell

that I've constructed in my mind; this insanity of

death's final act, played out on the pages of our youth

Rise, and don't let fall the night; and keep your

Clothes; lest the remainder of our spell take ordinary

measures and less than equal parts of the drawn out

portion of our days; let evil wash through you,

And the small history of the gods punish you; for your

sins. While I keep captive the book which holds our

being, the seas of time; and this landscape structure

Only one infirmity of life could now construct our sea

And as it drowns us, in its vicinity; we'll take raw

punches and breathe in the isolation of its waves

Beneath its tow, we'll sever Heaven; and in its wash,

We'll rake in the distance to the stars.

And in this silent moment sing the remainder of her

delicate rehearsal; one too many moments drenched in

the violence of the saints; as they come peaceably

Through the ashes on the hill; and from the caves

While I sit down, watching television in my home;

making mustard sandwiches, and keeping the door closed

Bright lights burn through the drapes, and leave a

Cold remark upon my skin; the violence of yesterday's

rehearsal, and the antiquity of words; spoken and

uttered in silence still; breathing and condemning

Wait and watch for the oscillation to rise above the sea

A moment's ecstasy, torn down in simple standing of a

fruitless night of words; if only reason could be rid of

Our insistent sky; and travel all the way from here to

the black house on the hill; where dark magic lives;

Then there would be completeness in this circle,

The holy fold, and the unrighteous death of cemetary's

wish; foretold in the distress of an unnamed witch;

We want to keep the curtain risen; so we can see

The epitaph's construction on the frame, each word

spelled backwards; each symbol exposed, so that there

may be change dealth through its construction.

We traded angels, and the bathwater which we drowned in

was on fire; the corporate lies we told each other were

marked with ivy, and with blood; we crossed each other's

Path; in the dark recess of night's collision with the

Stars; and you pulled out your gun. Heavy hands forgive

me of my sins; drain this sting of pain, and make me

whole; I will not reason, and I will not call the rites

You found me bleeding on the shore; you found my water

Bottled up, inside; and I was dressed for the union you

would not break, concealed in a fashioned form of

dignity; dressed for the only day I could remember

Ever having felt a sense of peace, and burning passion

Open my clothes, and let them fall; I want to show you

my life exposed in little drops; open your mouth, and

let me see inside your mind

Two foul birds singing melodies close to the heart

While one speaks intermittently; the other chants, whole

heartedly of youth's remembered dreams; focus on the

remainder of her song; and please the motion of her arms

With this distanced lullaby of lovers' ascent; raised

The token of our last goodbye kiss, ripped away from

the start, we even up and change our tunes to those

of the warrior's cry.

With regression of our sins; to the very base of being,

I am hypnotized by your words, and by the faces you make

at me while we chant together in the darkness of a pale

Moon; even after all these years, I'm bent by your words

Spill out, sustenance; together it's just another frame

for our calamity; spill out, mother; it's a dress to

keep the flesh aroused; we are not puritans here,

We've come stained with the eye of sin; and I'm not

Restless here, holding onto what use it will require

of my blood; of my intoxication by the moonlight's

sad face, even as the heads hold high, I crave your

Company as much as you crave mine; so let's settle in

The dark, and spin a watchful eye against the moon;

Heaven's calling out to us, so let it be a peaceful

Dream, that we may be purged one day; of every illicit

Motion of our wrists; and the sanctity of our forbidden

lusts ; we can exploit the stars; we can ruin reason's

Ends; and find the final cause for our desires;

Even now, there's something less than peace, preserving

us within our skins; we'll make motions like this

madness we've been running from; and carry the solution

To our death; and cradle it like babes, their sacred toy

Three things pending; and when they've come about,

there's no stopping death; our breath and our redemption

isolated in truest form; one small step within the bath

To wash us clean; but it doesn't take the sins of our

Repentance; it doesn't drive the demons from my mind,

these insecurities and closed off corners of reality;

The holy book of orders and escapes; the pentacle

I read, and I transcribe my works into the patch of

golden mesh I've woven; strings fray, and the distance

between us as our bond grows; it lengthens; there

Isn't anything left for me to say to you; it is a

Heightened hold and a perpetual fire of death's resolve

setting in the bones; settling on the seasoned frame,

I've lost antiquity in this shade of crimson

Love has cost me life's transparency; it has birthed

Flesh, and brought about the distance I have craved;

too many nights lost dreaming with the stars as my

horizon; too much mathematics and the stint of pain

Here we are, at the crossroads; where the world turns

dark, let me lie with you; and carry on the peace of our

house; let me lie in ashes; here, where I am homeward

Bound; and bound in the delicacy of my own sins;

Stripped of patience and longevity; and youth; stripped

of the ashes I wore as my gown, the remains of my fire

flooding out upon the skin; as your synthetic diamond.

It's my arousal you should hear; within this sentence,

shed within our bed; face down on the pillow; a silken

lick of flame; and as you fast to taste a bit of flesh,

We welcome our insecurities, and we welcome our lies

Hold fast to what you have, here is my demise; face down

left wailing in our bed; and the chimes drink up the

golden hair, and the wax rips out my roots; fire

And flames consume my heart; it isn't any question

Where are we going; now, when the roots of our ascension

have collapsed; and where is the night bleeding towards,

As the day shifts arbitrarily toward night's bleeding

Edge; you ring, and on your ring is a motion I can't

contain; and we wait a moment; or two, or more for the

outing of this fire;

Trapped within my mind; this insanity; is burns the

Throat, and keeps the stars from shining down; there is

no course, no plot to consider binding us together,

And as we walk through the compliance of our surrender;

I siphon your aesthetic sin. It's the coward's call,

to succeed in a drop of youth's remembered arm, to

cradle without grace; and to cut; sever our reaction

Potion's mixture pursed with lips, and given ivy's

restrictive dance; I cup my hands, and swallow.

The slow defeat of sanity; the easing of the mind into

chaotic clusters; and the monopoly of strain upon their

systems of thought; I dream of angels and demons

And I see them in my waking hours

The courage of a substitute for sin; its small

embankment, where to the shadows flow; and this serene

identity, fleshed out with stars and atoms

A cluster of death colliding with rebirth and life

A fraction of the fuse which burned out, while I was

whispering the sacred hymnals to our gods; even as

the door cracks open; and I can see you peeking

Underneath my sister's skin; it's broken, the part of

You that traveled many days to find your bearings; lost

in a sea of depth and disease; in a banquet of severed

dreams, and I come to you; forsworn to find your hands

So you may hold me, in sickness and in health;

Until death; until the departure of our souls through

the gates of Hades; and into another world, where there

will be no more of love, or of languishing through life

This Hell we live; this uneasy place wherein we lie

Death throws all that aside, and there will be an honest

pasture for the pleading of our lives; but we won't

Pass that lot; not the two of us, in tandem; not both.

The limitations placed within this courtroom; and for

hearing the howling winds pick up their laughter; and

as it ceases, as the wind fluctuates against our house

I watch your presence here disrupt the path of sin,

And these garments tear; and your juices burst with

and angry flare, and I complete your bath with the

salted waters ; and afterwards anointing you as queen

The devil plays a role; and the continuity of angels

Plays its part; there's no time left for surgery, even

open heart could be a complacent part of this arhythmic

Dance; so as you are, love; complete the circle as you

Are; so there may be some consequences for our trusted

death; homage to the queen, belies our homage to our

Benefactors; the streams of triumphant flurries

Washing through the wind; and the streams of rain and

ice clusters, as they grow; so sweet the taste of rain,

Throughout our embassy that teardrops should ascend

The steps of God; and bring our fruit to passage through

the gates, as principle reminder of who we are; of where

we've come from, and to where we do ascend;

Let the blood contaminate our childhood; let the earth

Seek salvation in the sun; and let the oceans swallow us

in a steady moon, so we can complete our circle; and

find among us a drop of faith for which to hold.

And here we are, disregarding the truth of connected

beings; silently holding out for insanity's disruption

The cold conclave of starlight on a winter's night

As you tug at my throat, and seize this silent

interruption for your death; but I want none of it;

I want to keep you here, within my grasp; my love

And when you've left me here; to settle on distinction

I play the pure fool, dusted in the sentence of my

idiocy; wreathed in unremembered thoughts and

disconcerting dreams; an amalgamation of purity's breath

So sentence ourselves to silence; what good will come

Of that disruptive stain; when all lights flicker on

and death becomes the only memory of this intoxicating

breath we've bathed within; for the storm, and for my

Own sweet drink of life; keep this moment pure; ignite

The shadows, and let them bleed pure; and hold yourself

out to the night, and let it claim you; let my gaze

fall upon you one last time; and in this moment's

Intensity; that it shall not fall away; take a breath

Hold it in as long as you can, and take another; let

these precise sounds of indecision flare up within your

lungs; and catapult yourself into my arms,

Drink the water, and don't be thirsty; love me.

The lovers' gaze; intense with fire and light as air;

we see the turmoil brewing, and as sisters we slide

a bit of faith within the rim; and close the body up

Soft secrets, and a lion's share for portions spared

I keep to myself, within this holocaust of fear and

envy; the evening's stroke of silence captures me;

while you subdue my innocence, and claim your company

White rabbits; slipping beneath skin; a pure reminder

Of what shadows grow when you set sail, of what

curiosities must be maintained when you are gone from

here; of the darkness which will purge my heart of love

Death is a small substance, and love is a muse; I play

For your company, and I play for the consistency of

youth; while all these words are drenched in shadows;

I play, likely to entice her shadows in my dance

While you hold onto realities that have no bounds; and

fate which can't survive the purity of life; we go,

to the edge of this world and we will fall; there's

No stopping us from the lifeless mess that will follow

Carry me, into the asylum; carry me to where these

dreams no longer flow; life breath to life and death

Show me the one thing we have been missing; in this sea.

The cover over your eyes; it's in the dark we see the

best; and as your atmosphere changes; with subtle

silence drowning all your screams; and pain lingers

What we imagine as our best, we took in as peaceful

Prayer; locked within the shadows ; here is our night

left standing, here is the day swept clean away; and

here, in the ashes I find you; holding onto remnants

Of our past; reminders of what we used to be

And it's here, within the cold room that I find you;

begging for forgiveness on the floor; and I will offer

you peace, and resurrection; I will give you what you

Desire; you are headstrong, and I like that about you

So go on, carry the weight of your ancestors; redeem

yourself against the cruelty of your sins; and find

within yourself the passion that drives you, and

Remember; this is our hour; this is our light for travel

And to remain a woman of the cloth; to give in to

substance abuse and the democracy of death; to transmute

Fear into anger and regret, and stain the body's head

I want to see you clean; for just a moment's breath;

to wash you in the sea, and let your body come about;

fully clean, of all your stains; and dressed

And then to watch you close your eyes; reveal your mind

And purge the sea.

We walk in bent shadows, around the iron fence; to place

a sponge of nicotine and press; against our place in

the old world, and pierced through into the new; a drop

Of toxic death, raining down upon our graves;

Nobody has the clarity for conventional wisdom; there is

no outlet for the loss that I've surrendered to this

night; I see my veins, and I see the third set of stairs

Come, and curl yourself closely; come, and catch fire

As you do; and burn, all the innocents; in a storm upon

the sea; so we'll break light and cast out shadows from

the room, and seize our comfort in the grave to wash

Our bodies; when everything close to me is shattered,

What life we'll spend bringing resurrection's point to

pass; and the still long arm of sitting there, piecing

Each word of God together, with string and needle;

I place my head in your hands, and wonder why we can't

just succumb to the plain portents of the angels; or

why we must pretend to do the will of God to be inspired

Nothing is ever as it seems; and ever was within these

threads of suffering's critique; so as you lose touch

and consciousness with my unforgiving hands; let loose,

And carry out the finality of our death; through fire

Through water and the resurrection of souls; blessed

(or cursed) for how they walked the earth.

An oral rejection; staving off the distance to the mire;

close at hand, each word lies solely on the lips; bent

with the twisting in of fate's resolve, I smile as you

Purge yourself of speech; and bring into this world an

Heir of death; her hair fastened back, and her eyes the

color of a sunset; breathe in and bear her to the light;

let every word shine brightly as you whisper her name

Resolved and legendary dragons mark our names in mud

Hope falls still short, and as I breathe; the cave

collapses in on me; and I am suffocating against a wall

of death, hurry, love; sweep these stones away

Risen hours; holy storms and winter's revolution skins

The bear; the ice settles, and your feelings are

stripped bear so you cannot lie comforted in the night,

holding onto the woman you cherish most of all;

Strengthen your accord; and make what's right become

a melody of motion; drop yourself into the bath water;

drain the snakes of poison, and sit in this enigmatic

Smile; soak within the waters, and drink their flavor

I will dust the ashes from the place; and come into

the waters, and together we will still the serpent's

blood; freeze the condemnation of our ordained injustice

Ripe with fire, and holding onto the axe; we'll take

Turns chopping fuel for the flames; we'll heat the

hallways of the saints; and in this, let loose the

dissonance of our corruption; heading into sin.

The other direction; the other way, and how hard could

it be to turn; but in my body's processes, while you

were away; I've locked up any chance of recovery

This sentence to die is an easy one to take; but the

Birth of our reality is a bitter pill to swallow; so may

we migrate into storage, and through the fields of azure

attempt our bonds to suffer us for one more hour

Leave the baggage in the garage; where it can keep our

Lives, locked away; and hold out onto death's great

Store, and the vicinity of youth's charades; I mention

you in passing to my wife; and she leaves the obscure

Tracks to fashion; as I purge you from my mind; soul

closed up and brooding; where were you when the axe

fell down, and swept up all my fantasies; where were

You when the seasons changed; and left me bereft of

Dreams; where were you, when this diabolic blood seeped

into my veins; and gave me a reason for coming home;

I've been raped, and I've been wanting to be alone;

Let the candle burn; and let tomorrow come with easy

flare; for the pieces of our love to shatter and twist

into despair; we'll crave a place within the cauldron

Seep myself in dragon's blood; and distance myself

From your intoxicating breath.

The pillow in the attic; soft and lovely, and secure;

What phrases you shout to me in the darkness of our

everlasting escape from sin; this reason for coming into

darkness, the high ascent; and our forthcoming destiny

Pieces of our memory remain; our unbroken freedoms

Sin with me, and take the coat off; hang it by the fire;

let your body warm once more; to me, and as I drive the

knife down between your legs, and taunt

Danger drives our sexual advance; and even as it rains

Summer winds come to push you away from me; its heat

burns the skin, and as we drive each other further on;

Your company, and your complaint are heard; but I can't

Corrupt you into thinking my way is the better way;

you have to earn that by yourself, and drown within

the flames; love's company deserves you

Take my hand, and let me lead you into my fantasy;

Where we are secret lovers; wrapped in the flames of

desire, burning with each other's heat; and lengthening

our time together, strengthening our bond; in hopes

We one day purchase a little lot beside the lake;

Where we can swim within the intoxicating waters of the

sea, and speak to the Goddess of the waters; who will

set us free of motion and obscurity; we'll dream of

Crystal fins, and wake from sleep to see an angel

Swimming in the dark waters; resting by the shore,

and praying for the sentence of the world and for our

love to steady and to grow.

Below the lines of decency, and descendants; where evil

lurks the final mile to our restrictive lie; show me

your face, love; and as I die within your arms, kiss me

Slowly with the desperation of a sinful hand; cut me

And when this shining light dispenses the remainder of

its power; we'll grow old, and tired of each other

as all lovers do, given time and the relocation of the

Heart; your passage through my mind becomes a certain

Stain; resting on the deep familial borderline; I cross

and find there, nothing more to gain; than access to

the deeper secrets of your youth; there's so much

Incongruity in our sphere; there's love and shadow

But no light left to burn; it was a deep-seated fear

which drove you, partially away from our incongruous

spectre of a night; and I wash myself clean of you,

But no matter how hard I scrub; the mind has soaked you

In the shadows of the earliest morning, I weep until

I find an allowance of faith; to end this broken heart-

ache, and mend these shattered bones

True love is a sequence of affairs; stripped clean

Of death, or of sickness; there is no basis for it, in

reality; it is a mustard gas moment of non-clarity.

A shroud in the dark lines of deceit; a curling up of

fate; and a twist of irony, played out to the rhythm of

the sea; hold my hand, and take my wrist to bleed

Howling in the dark night air; you make me feel alive

And this sentence, crossed with death's own irony; the

plague of millions left within their cradles; in a

fortnight, encompassing the clouds where we were born

As little lost angels; drowned within the flames of our

Perdition, we stop, and we stalk the midnight moon; in

shadows too long to keep us company; we widen our place

among the stars; and shelter from the calamity of peace

Movement and dreams; the verity of sin as it remains

Unseen; a box lying in the black night; opened to reveal

a causal reflection of who we were; and twilight's dim

introspection leaves us calling closed the shattering

Of forms, rising in the west; our sun reversed;

Satan's summer sun; and though I find myself longing

for its flames, its breath; and its livelihood; I

shatter myself against the wall, and bleed

Help me out of this synthetic chair; this toxic bout of

Blood, and let me breathe in the essence of the night;

cool, crisp air to spill out into reason and leave the

loneliness at home; I want to wash you clean, to take

You home again; to wear your arms around me as I fall.

Intoxicated by your breath; as the flow from your lungs

decides which turns to take, and while you know you are

Not getting younger; things can often stay the same

For some long time, so let the wild willow see into your

future, and cast some pain down upon its own derisive

sequence; and we could gain the night's intoxicating

Breath; for our own flame, and betroth you to my veins

Skin and blood and magic; and the marsh, walking upside

down through some enchanted forest; where gravity's pull

Is at the edge of the sky; but we won't fly for long,

I leave you in the darkness of my own mind; for a length

so you can pull together the crispness of the city air;

and its violent pulse; I owe you nothing, and you

Will walk out on me, holding your head low; seizing

Comfort where there is none; I wanted to watch over you,

and drink in the sky; to keep reason to madness, and

wait; but there's no waiting left, the hour is dull

And thin, draped over too much blood; and too much

enmity; I crave power; to lord it over you, like the

witches in the darker fairy tales; to have some hold

And blanket you with lust, and need; and corruption.

I'm winded, and at the fore of my thoughts are your eyes

and I see something hidden beneath those lines; not age,

but rather a distinction that makes you more appealing

Rest; and drink in the eloquence of death, for in this

Fall, we rise anew; and I will take your breath; capture

it in bottles, and save it for a rainy day; we lie

To each other and to ourselves; we lie, broken and alone

For in this death comes crawling out our disease, our

impurities; our demise, and never in my youth have I

experienced this form of love; you draw me in and drive

Me wild; it's no reflection of ourselves or of our

Decency; just a rock bottom metaphor for fury and lust;

we go alone, as we came; and as I come again, to see you

But rejection in your heart keeps me away; and I can't

Step inside to cradle what was bared to me; your full

exposure to my mind, and the decency that followed; it

was intimacy worn thin to breaking; and I fell.

I fell forwards; and hit the rock, head first;

And though I bleed; I don't care, even though you

pushed me into this; I don't care; even as I'm grounded,

Nothing matters in the night except to hold your hand.

We're served a stew, to soak up all our memories of

warm logic and textual remains; my broken arm placed

in the vicinity of the commandments of our God

Hopelessness, and the vast inferiority of this plague

If there were something to hold onto, something close

to keep within my grasp; all things flood with memory

And there isn't any process for forgiveness; there's no

Claim to the throne; I wish I could just wash it all

away; and dream of the remainder of our sins, as they

collide with being's eyes; formulaic shelter from

Insanity, as the heart withdraws; and leaves a bit of

Shade; to distance ourselves from the northern star,

and find completeness in our irony; to placate the

violent sun, and let it pass away into the west

The student slumbers, and this is how we build duress

She can't reveal her identity, or let me know her heart;

she's lost within the void of darkness; without knowing

What she'll find, and as I seize her; and force from her

Lungs the pitch of air to make me see her mind; she

doesn't spread her lips; she muffles her voice, and I

can't find purchase to cause her to reveal

Her inner secrets, lying dead; her simple song.

I bleed in the vicinity of our youth's proposal, and

stain the covenant we made with the mercury in my blood;

These veins, and their descent into the reaches of flame

When the jury rises, and all the world is judged; I'll

be condemned by you, and by your mother; and by your

friends; and as you hold the candle of my fate

This crystalline chasm for which I shall be bound

The night will wash over me; and flames subdue me, in

the yard; and there will be no light for this shadows'

abduction into a turbulent fate spun for sinners

I'm restless now, and I can see you calling me from the

Window; dusting off the pane and asking me in; but your

body speaks a different language than your tongue;

which says to go away, and keep my hands tucked in

Even as God calls us to this indecent exposure of our

Worlds; I am afraid of what's becoming of our friendship;

once blessed by the trees in the garden; once blessed by

Mother Earth; and the queen; now saturated with our

Filth; and dissonant connection, reduced to dreams

Unfulfilled fantasies; and tricks of the mind; like the

demon's blade, in casual acquaintance; I admire you

And there's no room for sin within our bath; and sin

is all that's left of our reminiscence with the stars.

While our synthetic fate gestates, and the seasonal

collapse of yesterday's defeat walks in upon the shroud;

four corners of the earth, held down and dressed with

Ancient texts; I do not believe I'm being rash with you

But this dark path descends heavily into the sea of

death's corruption, and I want you to know that I have

nothing but the best and highest regard held for you;

But as you come into my seed, and carry in my strength

There's no more need for lust and anger; no more face

for worry and deceit; lies lie languidly upon the

tongue, and your fate dithers here; within my hold

Believe in the four corners, and in fate; and there will

be a bed for you; upon the highest peak of the clouds;

and there I'll write your name in blood, and it will be

Your destiny to sit upon your throne, to seize its

Thunderous glory; and to contaminate the pools of God

with mercury and mist; and I will call your name when

the moon strikes the earth; so you can cause the great

Silence of her beams;

But it's your fault when the cracks form, and the world

issues ice, and rain; and sleet and hail; as if there

weren't any other way to breathe within yourself;

You purge your loneliness upon me; upon us all,

And in the quiet escape from principles; you make your

mark; and even after all the things we've shared; you

act as though you didn't care what would come;

You blow the match out; and freeze the minds of men.

These books, a cross between my own damnation and a

threaded skin, baring my salvation; the disease of the

mind; both purified and electrified for your consumption

And as the season grows, I find myself laughing less

Steered from the shallowness of dreams and love; I've

purged these; not by my decision, but rather by

necessity; for my foul fated arms are torn and bleeding

Hell's despair is all I feel inside; the death of love

Carried over into sin, and passed down through my body;

it isn't any sense to stay on, laughing with an empty

bowl; when what spills out is sadness and an incomplete

Function for my brain to swallow all the seeds of death

Can one call me corrupted in the eyes of God; I think

there's many worse than I am; as far as fate, or faith;

I recognize my internal indecision; and it scars my

Words. So I open up to strangers, looking for my

disconnect to heal; I plead with angels and with the

devil's spawn; anyone to hold my hand and comfort me

Hard decisions come; and at their pinnacle, I swallow

and I choose; there's no game left, it's all becoming

clearer that my destiny lies beneath the earth

And as I come to a close; as life's weather drowns me

I find within my body there is nothing of salvation,

no hint of a resuscitating wind; to reenact love's

fury; or the spill of happiness onto the lap.

The miles that we transcend; and the wind which takes us

over and into other worlds; this insanity's serene

malformation; it is written in the stars, and on my

Parchment; the sole redemption that we can bear through

Our stain of sin; and when we promise each other the

light and distant holiday of youth; and we permit our

cousins to partake, I'd like to dry it up with reason's

Laughter facing the threat of incoherent thought;

We were both marked, as children; for the early grave,

so in September, it will come; and you be ready love;

The night's watchman come ashore, to breathe the toxic

Dawn; and open up his lungs to magic and mystique; and

mystery; the perfect bite, we welcome you into our cave

of death; where we will chain you against the walls

Like us; and build a covenant with fire, and with salt

To burst the lungs' position and to fill them with

asphalt memories; even as you hold yourself in position,

The hour comes, and is calling; relax this is a

sacramental remedy for turning loose the reactions of

the mind; the soul will steady and the heart throb

Causing a dissonant connection with the waters;

And we'll drink from the plain cup; one by one, a sip

and another; to drown within the toxic sea, along

the shoreline; as we watch the angels descend.

Two stories; told in tandem, the rise and the fall of

the night; as we forget who we are, as we lose touch

with destiny's child and the winds of fate at our backs

The trouble with lies is twofold; and the fork creates

A dissonance rising through the winds as thunder;

and we recreate the stars, without their intended

shining; ruining the reunion of their mask

For each intended purpose, is a dignity; a sheath held

High, and blade withdrawn; I soak up the laughter of

our yesterday, and recognize the pain you've caused

Without a hint of passion, there is only craved

Withdrawal; the storm front closing in, and when the

sky speaks; an epiphany. Your reason for drawing out,

for causing this denial of faith to be enacted

Wanting, without reason; without the measure of a skin

You and I, I fear-- have something in common between us

So hold on, a little longer; before death consumes us

both, and the high heavens bleed for our decay; rain

on me, with fire and with love, so we may cause a

Continuity of change; and reverse this tragic cinema.

Incremental steps against a sanitary wasteland, so much

deceit in games played on a crystalline lattice; you

work the thunder, and I'll carry the craven dolls

Westward, into the land of the dying sun;

Hope becomes a candle blown out before it ever had a

chance to bury its heart within the minds of lovers

twain; and for tonight, I drive against the grain

Surrender every cost of casualty; and strip my body bare

You are the flight to my fancy; and I rescind you the

right to call on me; when the desert comes to wash you

dry of sins, I will be fluctuating in my head

Do you know the right way to dance with me, and do you

Recall my once-surrender to your words; not anymore.

Not while people call your name and I can listen in;

but cannot find my voice to say hello; there is a mild

resistance with where you are, intoxicated by your

Mother's pearls; and I'll sleep better if you hadn't

Brought it up; and I'll come quietly in the darkness,

but you have shut it up; and I can't find the rhythm

Into you. So spare me your lies, dance with someone else

and drink the moment's premise now, before you forget;

I loved you; and I'll sever my connection if it is the

thing which you desire above all; between us;

I'll make a bath, and lie in it alone; and sing to--

myself.

I stepped into the midnight moon, howling as I came;

and you dropped your dress, and lit my soul aflame,

even after all these years; and now you've disappeared

I come crying after you

With mercury mixed with blood, and the seven sins inked

upon my brow; a dozen lies to carry out our consensus;

with victory portrayed as a coming out of death

I cannot imagine you, without your hair; without your

Eyes peering deep into mine; and I cannot imagine your

place among the distant angels; wreathed in fire for

your sins' accompaniment; but you are central to me

A toast; to the features of the muse; to her corporeal

body, dressed in black; to her picture, and to her scars

The great aesthetic song; lit with the fires of our

destiny, and cradled by faith and everlasting love;

You are my serpent, the desire of my flesh

Drawn out and into the bath of blood; so I should

cradle you in the iniquity of our death, and hold

nothing secret from you; you are my eyes; my only pair

And without you, I am blinded by the pain of letting go

The forest sings, and we complete the circle of our

divinity; we catch within us the shallowness of lust;

Bury me in the sand; drown my head within the sea

And let me be an eternal flame; to burn for you, even as

I paint a picture of the sea; let the waters flow from

me and into you; that we may dream alike.

Even from before the first moment we pressed lips; I

knew there was something between us; sex was in the air;

and the plain smell of burning papers, arisen

You cannot compromise my love; your shattered heart

Fastened on the likeness of death, I sweep across your

imagination like a scythe; dropped down to reap the corn

I watch you as harvest proceeds; and into the night;

your melancholic words, asleep with sadness and delight;

Thrusting yourself into the pages of black denim

And I watch weakness stay its hand; while your memory

alights new with passion unresolved; she's come to

Unlock your memory, and make you whole again; unbridled

And even now, as the dark winds blow through the passage

and the harbinger of death makes her way through the

trees; even in hindsight, I can forego this calling

But wouldn't it be greater yet; if she could harness

My love of you; and wouldn't it be choice; for her,

to send you on your way; to carry out your cross,

And have her replace you; it's what you said you wanted.

Your smell, as it lingers in the air; is two-tonal, it

brightens and depresses all at once; and as these shades

lie together, enveloping my thoughts; I start to pray

But to which God, yours? the gods of the old times

Which never bore their purpose except in myth and legend

or to the God of christian lore; whose plain white

being exists beyond description; I savor the plentitude

Of your eyes, the long descriptions of your gown

But each and every particle must be made into being

somehow; I breathe deep, as I find the courage to last

my essence into eternal breath; and pray to a new God

One that doesn't seek repentance for sins remiss; one

which carries out an order inherent in gravity; one who

brings the sun, and carries it away each night; and who

Through the certainty of expression, divides the

Darkness from the light. Brimstone and fire, as light

divides the day; so must souls divide, darkness and

light, even in our times of fear this must be

So tie me to the post, and make me scream in pain

What delight, to feel the rush of death clinging to me;

with every sentence, with each slash, my love lengthens

You are my deceiver; and treachery is in your blood

Woe, and the candles spill; woe, and the cradle spills

its innocents; woe, and destiny divides my fate from

yours; and we are truly misunderstood beings of light

Let come what may, and the divide withhold its sceptre.

Saved from the encroaching fire; the furnace looms; and

as your ordinary sense of letting go completes my work,

I try to drag on into surrender, this calm flame of fire

Your next step is to complete the magic square; while I,

dressed with flame and fury; try to ease my customary

dance; to let regression charm you into submission

An ordinary dance; with milk and sugar poured upon our

heads; and down our dresses, while the ancillary

assessment of our form keeps the motion of death

Adhered to; life is but a conquest of nature, a revolt

So for the furious reassignment of debt, let me help you

worry about the plain remarks in passing; and let me

help you stand your ground when the lightning comes

Breathing fire upon the stable of your youth, it's too

Fashionable to seize this counter-productivity and work

through the childish bit of reason; to take control and

weave your sins about the impassionate recitation

Let's hold this dance, and let's hold onto what was

left of our unstable lives; we'll kill, if not for

open arms, then for our death to fill the graves with

Blood and dead flesh.

We live in a dark sanctuary; pillars of fire pushing out

the unbelievers; and when the curtain shuts us in, we

pray to the God of the underworld; take me in, and

Hold me fast against the wall of desolation, watch me

Purr; two light hands held fast on heightened strings

while one consumed the pearl; I dry my nostrils from

their bleeding; two sentences and they're dry

If you had combed over the sea, and watched the waves

Sink my ship; there would be sudden silence for your

head, but now in a sea of glass and crystalline reality,

There's only one who can combine both elements of nature

Outwards, to the sea of glass and destruction; I will

watch your ship go under, and your belly burst at the

shattered blades; one drop of your blood after another

Dress yourself like a doll, make it perfect; and sing

This is my compartment now, do as you like within my

walls; but stay no longer than I let you. Tonight is

the consequence of being, choose a head and drag it

Over and beneath the ledge; drop paper swords, and

Drench it with the bucket of your blood; carry over the

small sentiments of love, these won't last; but hold on

for the embellishment of the saints; it is their hour

Buckle at the knees, and bring the table closer

I'll wash your sins away in these seas of death;

I'll carry you away from the dreadful hour, so long as

you forgive my sins; we'll make a muse of you yet.

I've strained my eyes at the monitor; looking for your

reflection in the screen; it isn't any want that drives

me, but the diminished belief that you could be real

So I believe in God and Heaven, and the spilling out of

Souls; but no longer will I believe in love transcending

or of the earth closing in on us; you took away my

madness in becoming an adult, who chooses changes

Based on the synthesis of our corruption; and it stains

Waxing all the pages of my holy book with candles,

measured in the size of their deliverance; small sets

Of wax lips, dusted and purified

I hold you responsible for the pains you've caused me;

and true deliverance could change your mind from what

you had planned this love could be; it will be pain

Ripping flesh, and tearing from the eyes; rest no longer

Carries substance; there will be sentiments and fire;

and the birth of a child no longer living, she will be

for you; a token of my appreciation; dipped in blood

Rise, now; say your sentiments to the moon; and go

Leave me no more blind, and leave yourself alone; and

I hope the misery treats you well, for now; carry over

to the last place we set foot; the virgin isles

Place your hand upon my shoulder, and don't let go

It is my last offering of peace, before the flame

strikes, and when it does; you will be counted against

And God will take a token of your flesh; in rusty arms.

An hour since you last called, but the completion of

our spell has struck a chord; there will be no more

lightening of a gaze stripped long bare of anything

Of desire's symptoms; and as we walk through death;

I'll attract the chaos, while you sweep through the lair

and carry out the key for our recovery; there will be

no more worry or waiting, death will not receive us

And as your token eyes seize onto truth's misguidance

Heaven's shelter plays the role of pacifist, while you

proceed down the long dark hallway into death's lair

and find yourself a bed to lay within;

I come as well, sneaking past you and offering my lips

Your open eyes; your wholly open mouth, terrified; in

a half-scream, while I lay my love within your arms,

destined to be together; through the afterlife and into

Hell; our worried breath collides with non-being

An apron, placed around your waist; what desperate

times we seek shelter from, the kitchen door swings open

and the cockroach sings; for lack of dreams or love

I sing his tune

And although we walk together through the past yard;

broken rhythms of dissonant feet clapping; we ride

through the gallery, chanting our hymns

Never any incomplete vibrations here; no small tide

Two parts sour and one sweet; and kill the pig.

Vacant interest, the flow of someone's settled wrists,

torn and cut, and bleeding; as I unfurl my shallow flame

and hint at the last hour of her death, she comes

And I awaken what was lost within her; the serpent's

Dream, and as it unleashes its full frontal assault,

I make amends; I plant my stake within the ground,

setting it on fire; this is passion; this is love

There is no life behind these walls; only death sees me,

and when I depart this way; the world surrounds me and

holds me down; proclaiming "you belong in the valley

Of death," and to ease my pain in this deliverance,

I find the mild intoxication of your breath; and sink

my nostrils into their flaring; and swallow, even as

the sun rises; I can feel your face, the shape of it

You portray the angel of death at her arrival

What comes is a storm, the deathly storm of summer's end

embraced by the gods; for this everlasting token of its

youth; I burn easy for what I have consumed; the souls

Of the youth; taken as easily as they were given

So twist my arm and make me bleed; there is no hope or

salvation for these girls; only life's blood can save

their precious metals; their souls; but they have been

Bled dry; there is no life left in them, their precious

Eyes, staring off into the heavens; the place they have

no chance to ever enter; goodnight, and peace be on them

The final assault on her body; a casket made of fire,

and the energy born from her rectangular entrancement;

four stories up, and the angel walks to her death

I watch the windows close at her passing; see the tears

Streaming down the faces of the forgotten ones; I live

in the cold resort of death while she transmutes into

a ghastly form of her modernized self; triangulated

With reckless eyes and a pacifier glazed in blood

I give you salted water to drink; close your eyes and

make due with what you have been given; there's only

one passage through death, and it's a calm and steady

Wind which blows across the plains; keep your eyes

On the backside of my head; for further warnings, see

page 3. Continuity climbs the ladder to this junction;

on separate pages, there's a disconcerting effort to

Take the body into blood, and read the memoir

I cannot fathom a life in cruelty such as this; I

cannot divide the plaintext from the cipher; there must

be something dissonant forming on your lips to make it

Feel so awkward to speak with you; it's a closed charter

Rhythmic hands with placement on the folds of flesh,

uncertain how they rise and fall; uncertain of their

loyalty; but certain of this: there is a deep passion

And blood boils below the skin; she feels it, I feel it

Never any action tested in the skin took so long to

resonate; we were affected from the onset, but life

made it meaningless; made it cruel.

Fortune fades at this first light; leaving nothing

other than breadcrumbs and bad perfume; I try to notice

something between her teeth, what she could be biting on

But there's no signs of trouble in this waking bed;

Tomorrow, we'll play yesterday's assailant; and dream

the words you spoke to me, when you were still

intoxicated; God's delight, in the garden of good and

Evil; the respiration of our mouths, still ticking

While birds and insects breathe and fade away into the

silence of the shadows; while melancholy worlds destroy

each other at a hint of impatience and a lick of love

Dry memory, cold as ice and forgotten; there will be

Rain and snow to push asunder your words; there will be

blood, to carry it on into tomorrow's timing, and as we

go; let's bake ourselves a final string of lies;

Momentary collapse; the promise of a new and passionate

Demise; dressed in the skins of some leathered beast;

I see you through the stars, and I see clearly the name

of your god; and I won't move for your reprisal to take

Form; that's something you'll have to take care of

On your own, so seek me out when the moon is right;

and the sun just completed its course; and while your

body still aches; from making love beneath the midday

Sun; we'll breathe patience, and I'll be queen for a

Time; while you, my servant; bound in blood; take aim

at what defenseless creature could have threatened me,

Take aim with the intention to kill.

A slow and steady fade; the shadows overtake us both;

and as we call out to the moon; something gnawing in our

wombs; death can have us both, but leave our sons

So certain we have won against God's ordinance

Love will make a mockery of us tonight, feral; blood,

lust will overpower us; while fortunes rise and faith

resumes her course, and the poetry will end

Sticks and stones, and piecewise functions; graphs of

Our astronomical indecision; the corporate lie, blessed

by the bounty that proceeds from the tongue of its mouth

Dust and shadow, are all that we've become through this

ordeal; and hope is not a rising star, or a sun; it is

a vacancy; a pit of endless sorrow, and we lie in death

Remember when we sang our hymnals so obediently,

And when God was the answer to all of our questions;

through our faith, we reasoned in madness; disqualifying

any semblance of sense or order, only emptiness of mind

Remained, and so I leave you; and so I watch you fade

And let love's grasp entangle me again; to let it slowly

choke me, so that I may feel; even as I am, I watch

myself drowning in the pool of death and desire

Free my body; so that I may be a slave to this ordeal

And hold me down, and reap the words I've shattered,

against the wall; against the cold stone of my

unconsciousness; help me drive this heartache away.

Stow away; within this violent sea, I am mistaken and

unaware of how I came to be here; all the world is in

flux, and there's some passion in that

But what we are, and what we aim to be; the reckless

Modernist; chained to the walls of time, while I foresee

some future where the parts collapse; and where they

break apart; piecewise graphs of interconnected bodies

I will blow your mind; clear across the desk with this

Revolver, a warm gun; and a cold and bitter revolution;

when arbitrary rules are tempered with real science,

they wonder who the art was crafted by; and science

Is magic manifest as a new ordered set of rules;

So take my hand, and I will show you the ritual of

nuclear physics in the form of a bomb;

Step within this circle, where the demons crawl;

I want light, and I want the physical chemistry of death

There are no words for what we've done, for what we have

imagined there to be; it is a slow death to watch

Some may see and understand; while others sit by the

Wayside, holding hands with death and asking it to

touch them; one last moment's breath, to hold them under

When, in the vicinity of our encampment; we chastise

youth and bring them to their knees; to beg repentance

For their sins of innocence and lust;

Only the purest minds know God; and these are to be

sheltered and secured; not wrapped in plastic and sold,

to the highest bidder for the payment of our blood.

The wind still shatters my thoughts when it blows; the

loud, obscure sound of children crying; from far away,

and though it haunts me for an hour; I whistle

And I let me cries enjoy their pain; and suffering

It is the trying thought that there may be Hell, forced

into the shadows of this disruption; and that their song

may bring a light to my redemption; forcibly the pain

Rings true, and I can conceive their beauty and their

Strengths and weaknesses; I am attuned. With God's

demands, I write their names within a book; the shadows

of the dawn, as it is marked within their arms

And to the fealty, I refuse my right of passage;

I conduct myself as though their servants hadn't watched

the weather unfolding; their guardians, and their king;

Mostly, I resume my work; with insanity in the forefront

To peel transition from the stars, and to ignite my

passion's fold; let the loins burst to bleeding with

desire; and let the pain unfold

The resistance of our death brings the uncustomary

center to my dissonant chapter of life's resolve

Faith and the small amount of passion needed to absolve

We walk through the dusted hallways of our youth, and

seize what we can of memory; but it's not enough to play

There must be shadows and hills, and forests left to see

Timed to a contemporary piece; in fluctuation with my

coarse throat and bleeding hands; we seize the

opportunity, to gather in what's left of the dead

Four pieces, broken as they are; left on the side of the

Road; and as my duty, as is my right; I claim the

chair and force my law; do not enter here, do not

persist with caterwauling; or cradling the youth indoors

Time is a tax reform, letting us go of our iniquity

Positioned on the pinnacle of another topic, crazed

eyes open wide; and the sentiments of sanity molested;

Would you have me any other way, it is my soul which

intrigues you so; let me be as I am; and let the whole

earth surround me, and swallow me up before I die

The compliments of disorder and uncleanliness; as I die

Fealty to the sword, and to the hand which provides;

do you claim it, can you prostrate yourself before your

lady; and open up your eyes, and see the truth of things

Blindly, you promise the earth to me; not knowing what

such a promise entails; it will be drinking and eating

to excess, until the earth explodes with laughter

Seven heads with seven horns; the so-called serpent

Let the night roll over and forgive us of our sins;

let the belly fold over, and be forgotten; let this

night pass indefinitely on into tomorrow's bright sun

And let my shadow explode in anger for what you are.

Tropical climate, dusted by the starlight; with a serene

beauty I've never before beheld, it is every bit what

Heaven I'd had dreamed of; but it's not of the other

World; it's all earthly; with broken bones and sin

And one cannot scrape the dust off enough, to make it be

pristine; there is a death here, which lingers on the

tongue; and even after all our waiting, and watching

Nothing comes of beauty through performance

Wild things stalk the night; the things of horror films;

and mercury rises when we fall ill in bed; lust pursues

me in my dreams, and even after waking there's a stigma

All of it corrupt; even in this paradise maintained;

So where are you, love; in all of this, where's m

measure of pain mixed with intoxication; where have you

gone, while I walk these seven heavens searching

For your mark, upon the ground; in these fields of death

Maybe you will rise from the ashes; maybe you'll contain

a bit of reason for my mind's staying salve;

Wired, and ready to consume information; I bleed myself

And while you handle your regards, the sin stains me,

I cannot be myself; every facet of my being changed;

The mercury dropped in blood remains toxic; but the

elements transfuse; so I let myself be dropped into

a world of pain; to let me bleed out my residue.

Birthplace; titled in my deed, the dark dismissive

thought I hold with you, in contempt; I waver on the

winds of change, and settle for your everlasting song

Clear out tonight's last pages of our death sentence

While in the home, I hold my views to light; leaving

traces in the fire, true love never leaves; it only

Changes shapes; and I with you, we'll transcend death's

Instructive power; and flirt with angels flitting in

the deepness of the well, perfume's counter culture

And the detoxification of my dreams; all bent with

impurities, sin; malice, mercury; and spent too little

on the changing eyes of girls; who see what they want to

I can't channel your freedom, and I won't offer your

faith; or your resolve; bending spoons and token tricks

spent on the moon; I'm spending all my cash for you

While in my favorite conductor; Hell raises its fist

Golden eyes, and the retrieved damnation for our sins;

serial killers have spent their lives eluding this

within their minds; their demons having hold;

Frustration forms the outskirts of our plague;

Carry on and into the dismemberment of sin; swipe with

your eyes the plastic, and scar with your tongue her

flesh; raise above you, her body; and nail it down

There's a toxic flow and an evil drinks the waters

Down here, where everything is clean; the burning eyes

see all; and the deaf ears drown in the sounds of your

waters; pick up the ocean and swim, far away.

A closed connection; dropped line, a dead wire; closing

my heart's rhythmic pulse; I'm drawn to you, like to no

other woman, let us keep this door open for our union

As I rescind your place among my trophies; and cast out

your skin from among the drops of dew which I've

collected; there is a howling in the air, and it bleeds

Destiny's attire; the faded ink of old sentiments past

Due; I'll wash them in the blood of the lamb, and make

you pure again, for my house; and sever the remainder

of a sin against my infirmary; I'll host your love

And drop the casket down into the Hell from whence it

Erupted; this never-ending violence will make due; and

from it, I'll erase the digestion of our moment's

contemplation; make pure the violent strains for our

Redemption; Heaven is a hollow shell of faith's breeding

And while I watch you go; in your escape, I find little

less than compassion for your state of ecstasy, and in

love's warm embrace; I find the same, mixed with

Heartache and bloodshed; you came to me as a mass-

murderer; and leave a sainted prostitute; and I'll be

glad when summer's over and the wash basin has been

Emptied; and I'll be empty of your sequence and your lie

So turn over the clock, and make it pretty; wash the

lines which flow through time, and we will go together,

Back and forth through an oscillating rip in the fabric

To seek our shelter; to seek our space in the continuum,

and hold out for a perfect partner; for your magnetic

touch upon my flesh; and seize the night's romance.

The glory of your hold upon my skin; these flesh and

bone religions speak to me; there is no allegory; no

ascension, and no lies; only feeble truths of touch

Face and skin supplanting eternal bliss and damnation

Your eyes, and your aesthetic bonds; how you are an

angel of this truth; even after all has been said and

done, my fealty works both ways; it's illusory

Contamination;the violent strain of repercussive sins

For one hour, while awake; we toss and turn, and pray

unto the gods of light and shadow; while you succumb

to parity with truth and the devil; and I am her

Advocate; playing the part even as we speak; dressed

For fame, and appointed lies; suspended halfway through;

bowing to the ocean's crest and the moon's regalia;

Softly spoken whispers touch the night, as you howl

I want to howl the way you do, but I'm frightened to let

out my speech; to let my tongue direct me, I need to be

in control; so these synthetic pathways lead to dawn's

Intersect; and the pain of moving on; of losing touch

Reality's cold bite, flavored with plastic pills and

antiseptic words; you won't connect with me the way

you think you'd like to, there isn't oxygen to transcend

And every hill becomes a valley; and every slope obscure

I take pleasure in your pain; I take enough and more

than is needed, even after it's all gone and the

screaming ceases; I revel in you, in your torment.

To the more obscure places surrounding the fire; and to

my bedroom, which is placed within the hold; I deal in

compartmentalized truths, opened up and synthetic truths

Exposed to the simplicity of earth's conjectures

Here, we see the light hidden amongst shadows; the beams

and cross-beams of simplistic sight; the study of the

stars, and their alignment; and the whole of nature

As the semaphor creates her fantastic pull

So do I, among the dealings with abandoned houses;

stark remains of death; held up in shadows overlying

the edge of infinity; even as the soul remains impure

Cotton swabs and saline solution; dressed in robes

You wouldn't want to terrorize this face of death, you

could not complete the horrors in tune with living

through the forgotten pages of the holy books;

Evil is a heightened grip on the subconscious mind

And to your breath, and to the season of the hour; I

wind my path slowly through the necessity of our

inception; and breathe freely of the toxins taking shape

When one remote possibility could withstand the reason

After hours, in the darkroom; exposing video, and saving

stills; reducing negatives to their conformed essence;

Bleeding the reduction of their heart's attainment

I offer lies, and nothing less or more; just the

exposure to dreams pacified, and projections attained.

Tomorrow's earth, elasticized and elongated in form;

for shelter's chosen path, and the reform of tonight's

calendar; within the breeze of the crystal dawn,

And youth's pragmatic light; we'll beam, and bruise

The order of assemblage, into the dark well where at

the bottom we'll see change occur; and lonely secrets,

Desires spilled with a musk; and you are at the ocean

Playing dolphin; laying sand castles on the beach; while

we carry out the plan I had inscribed on our relief;

The one of pain, and inked death run across the hand

Phases of the moon make shapely phrases in the sun;

could you command my peace, and make it worthy of her

ensemble; would you take a tour, and catch me as I fall

Erase an hour of your life; a moment of the day and be

Strange; revel in your notion of no similitude of God;

patience as a virtue only goes so far; take small steps,

and larger ones; until the face contorts in pain

Listen to me, and take my hand; I'll lead you in the

Right direction, so as we make our bed; and lie in it,

I'm curious what form and what captivity you taste like

Then melt, in my words; and freeze in my blue fields

of glass; take measure, for they are all extinct and

ready to be passed over into clouds; life-sized

Crystals of the damned; the holy arms redeem a drop of

You, while you are caught, looking on; saving yourself

the trouble of repentance; I dust these sheets, and

sell their weight in gold; these are our dreams.

The dilemma of a self-consciousness; with full awareness

heaping on the blood of sin, within the constraints of

beauty and seduction; I choose to follow you, through

Flame and fire; and into the rings of Hell; for my

Awakened soul speaks out your uncluttered system of

aesthetic perfection; claimed righteousness as a

subversive and a sinful practice; to clutter up the

Reasoning of our minds; in this triumph, I rest assured

There is only one place for blasphemy; in my heart

the only true place for death's consumption, am I blind?

Does this twofold starlight shine down on me and smile,

in accordance with the wealth of information I've

divulged against the accordion of death; two lights

Burn, as the seasons change; and where are you, wreaking

havoc in my lungs and in my own contemplation of sin;

I want to drown you, take you from my breast and beat

you senseless; devour your child; and seize the heart

of your only lover; my infraction, destined for the

Central circle in the vicinity of Hell's birthplace

I write my own extensive subversion of your death; and

in it, the angels cling wearily to a heart of darkness;

I will follow the ancestral climb; and compare you to

a demoness, wrapped in aesthetic perfection; your eyes

speak miracles; and you drive the death of me

Into the ground, where I belong; into the shape of death

An hour's journey from my home; into a perfect sea,

striving to redeem lost innocence; and break the home

Perfection rests on the cool night winds, blowing when

no one is around to hear their whispering; and in my

arms, I tie you; and exalt you as queen of the heavens

Resulting in a bath for dreamers, and a heart for sin;

Nine tales, told in our vicinity; the lives of saints

and magicians, and little girls all dolled up; for the

flames, be ready; it is our contribution to the stars

One frightened girl, all dolled up; and her dreams

washed away within the sea; the ocean calls her to her

death; this is where you'll drown, and I can't save you

Whispering to lovers' in their quarrels; draw a sign

I complete the magic circle; and bind realities and

faces to my own; I can suggest their placement be

foretold by priests, and prophets; and sinners;

Nothing is as it should be; there is an upset in time

To phase this life within its binding; and to project

what's hidden, these secret sorceries; I blame you

for this anti-magic mindset; and for your familiarity

With death.

Framed but not forgotten, we speak similes and paint

the picture black; each forgotten footprint laid bare,

exposed to uncertainty; and as the mind grows easy

In unrest, I will proclaim to you the seven heavens

open; and expose itself nude within the night;

Approximation holds, and the undoing of our spell

will not satiate our desperate hold on frailty.

We sing a sad, depressive song; waiting for love to come

And when it does, it arrives with true passion, but

always ends in pain; love is a conquest, a divine

identity, written in the stars; and the stars are cruel

What fortune spreads is evil; and God is a curse

To play this role, as lovers' idolater; and to take part

in their sins, to leave the cradle bare and exposed

To bleed, while pressing out the pages of an unwritten

book; with love's compassion etched through every page;

and the very identity of God, refined by fire

Moreover, with the inscription of a youth transcending

flames; as she adheres to my prescription

Let us dissolve our laughter, and drown ourselves

In tears of dreadful repentance; in longing, with

nowhere else to turn but to the dead; so we will cry

And base the hour's light in torture, and the identity

of our collaboration; hold my hand, and redouble fear;

Take the crystal in, press it on your breast; and sing

While I cut myself, and tell you it's for the allure

of magic; but when I say it is; it's hidden meaning

is for me, and me alone;

Undress yourself; and show me your skin;

I like to watch you move this way; I like to see your

hips sway; carry on, this one's for the dead,

The dead will rise; and the muse will suffer them.

Traded the top shelf for a retainer, and what was

planted in her womb, was just a dead seed; christened

With the life of independence, and greed; I consummated

Within your crystal cave; our marriage and our death,

because we wouldn't leave what's left to the dying birds

And as we focused on the right hand, with its stars;

and our blasphemies, divvied up to take what's

rightfully ours; and to surrender our home, and our

Vicinity; come what may, and come the fragrance of our

Bodies; in the cold, relentless winter; And into our

subversive treatment; we will find the mark which suits

you; I believe in nothing anymore, false gods and split

Realities; the hindrance at the open door; I show myself

To you, love; so be quiet for a spell, and sit down

leave the rest to our remarks, written in the sand

Impermanence; like the drifting clouds; a caustic center

For a destructive whim; you dance like there's a sea

around you; take me under; and help me float my weight;

Beneath the ocean's majesty, we'll break our peace;

Resonate with our forgotten, strange and dissonant spell

and pile on the remains of the unholy hell, and see

what comes when we turn the key, and let the demons in

I want to watch; solely for the world which I've

Inhabited; I want to see the clouds turn under, and

Heaven's gate sink slowly down; I want to watch the

world burn; this terrible, and splendid sight.

A bitter winter; left me now for dead, while summer's

dress could capture me and hem me in; I stay for the

frost, I stay because the hot irons searing my skin

Keep me in; and as the daylight lingers on, in the face

Of death, I hear my own voice in the distance; another

stretch of pain; and another bout of pure intoxication;

sentenced to death for a well-known cause; my pain

Reflects my sanity; reflects my dreams, carried over

Into the violent strains of a heartbeat not yet felt;

I pursue the reaches of our last embrace; I live for

the evanescent smile, cast out upon your face

And as in death, I dry my skin; and paint my nails black

For curiosity; which may have killed the cat, doesn't

bother me; I've won my chance with death's own skirt

And wear it lightly; hemmed in and predestined for sin

Only an open wound could close me up again, only the

seed, buried in my flesh could find me writhing in

ecstasy; for I am swollen to bursting with pain

Try as you may, there is nothing left of me; but madness

In this concrete heaven; these forms of blood and ash,

dissolved together in a mixture for the gods; I will

drink, and I beg you ; have a taste, or two

It's the redemption of my soul I'm after; the silence

Of fear and large regression; I came at once when you

called to me, and I am here; at the end of everything.

When you sing; and when you carry me to my home, I rock

the cradle for you, I keep myself entertained within

destructive means; with violent screams, the head hunter

Is awake; do you think he sees me, I place within your

Hands; my flesh and blood, cooperate with me, it will be

a fun time; and as the storm blows, silencing our

thoughts; we'll seek a rhythm of redistributed sequence

Four gates, and not any of them fit to enter; four more

Lies, but not one fit to tell, and I feel burns, down

the center of my back, and I can cut myself in the

morning to match; it isn't any secret how you feel,

But how I feel is a complicated mix of words and motion

Every sight I aim at your body; makes it even more

complicated yet; I wish it was the dry entangled mould

for filling with rubber; a plaster cast, so easily

Broken; but you won't break my heart; you'd rather burn

It slowly, until its fuel is spent, and then I suppose

you'll send me away; unwanted and refused; from the

door, it's magic in motion; and I crave plenty of that

Here, in the shallows of my own damnation; here in

the sea of my swallowed thirst; I breathe slowly, and

I mask my own sins; so take heed what I am, and chain

Me to the earth; to the rocks beside the sea; and let me

Drown within the chasm of our dreams; leave me to the

purification of souls; by this salted water; and let me

for my own be counted among the stars in the night sky.

Born again; beneath an alabaster sky, reflecting my

eyes and reflecting the seed within my womb; our ancient

melody tuned to the humming of some distant sphere

Even after all the plants have wilted, I find you here

Washing my feet within your teary eyes; and I smell

sulphur, and I won't recognize your face, although I

know it's you; trapped inside some other woman

Draining her life as though it were your own to feast

Upon; If you could hold me under and beneath the sea

at the fiery sky of the setting sun; would you entertain

me, and drown me in the blue waters of a crystal bath

For me, this is the sweet intoxication of my death

Burned out and betrayed by someone I hold dear to me,

snuffed; out into the rising of the ocean's tide, no

more memories; no more lies, no secrets to hold onto

And while the crying tide takes her breath and seizes

onto me, makes our shelter a cave with no decision

points; I walk away, I dress myself in simple clothes

And run, fast into the arms of my one-time lover;

She'll catch me and hold on; she'll drown me if I ask;

and she'll mention Jesus, at the first drop of a hat,

So when I say goodbye; it's only the earthen shadows

That lay you on your back, when I mean love; I can

hear their calm serenity, even now; and I lock myself

in the pit of flames, and enter holding onto dreams.

A simple detoxification from our sins; we stay apart,

while we are purified; we make each other mad, and

disrupt the sea's folding; with every breath of yours

What will cause silent death; what will change us in

Our compassionate voices; and what will make the water

sing, sweet accompaniment to the angels' prayers; is it

our fault that we can't find anyone better; is it our

Fault, we are drawn so close to one another's lips

Reason finds some shelter from this madness; and covers

over all the sense made from magic and mayhem; the

mystic clock, ticking for the hour of our reunion

And for it, I will bleed; I will cut my scabs open

And dress the wound with ivy; and with mud; we'll drink

wine in celebration; the wines from the alabaster sky;

So long left without the vision of your voice within

my head; so far gone, I cannot see God's face smiling;

or hear the rhythms of the angels, planting seeds

Only a distant and repentant start to ritual and madness

I fear the conquest of eternal night has come to mock me

and with it; the stars have said their last goodbye,

And solely; I sing my final dirge; to myself,

As you emerge, fit for dining in Eden; let us repent,

so we may begin anew; our sinful love's affair.

I fold the towel, in alignment with the table where it

sits; and bless this cup; and bless my pills, and sip;

and swallow every drop of this inordinate death

It is claimed by many, that this fervor belongs to sin

So I shake my boots of it; and feel the onset of life's

dissolving thrust; a purge of feeling in the feet, and

in my hands (though shaking); every breath becomes

The final hour of sacrificial honor to the gods

I grow tired, and I sink within my sleep; in the hall

The dust settles, and I grow weaker by the hour;

Strengthening my resolve to purchase one last breath

before the lungs collapse; and if I could, I would

kiss you in this darkness; let it claim the both of us

Dear God; I haven't had the life to spend; I haven't

Had a moment's forgiveness, so take my hand and lead me

through this mire; and shelter me against the cold,

hard winds that blow;

If there's any God at all, to serve and surrender His or

Her voice upon the wind; I should feel this sentence

thinly split between Heaven and Hell; a rift in being

Before you left me, and before the silence of the wind

Caught my breath, and carried me under; I was lost in

love's affair, drowning in a sea of isolation; despite

your gnawing words and the intoxication of your breath

But here, I lack any reason; mere madness plays its role

And I complete the circle of my life's descent, I crave

simplicity of youth; and a backdoor to the secrets of

the spheres, to hold me over and never let me go.

We didn't need your eyes to tell us there was something

off; but as you centered in and focused on the light;

I gave a breath to the attic, and my disease regained

Its sentimental shift toward your body; and I waved

The flag of my desires; I changed my tone to the one and

only truth that you could hear, and I gave melody her

laughter; after all, it isn't decided what will become

Of science; or of love's incandescent thrumming; I will

Burn out my eyes, before I see the halls of truth

collide with madness, and I will flay my own skin

to touch the deeper essence of my reality

Murderers and witches; stay the accompaniment of their

Sins, while thieves of the cloth go down in books as

holy men, and saints; the inward clash of science

against degrees of faith, and their desperate warning

Nobody can reason with an unreasonable state of

corruption; and no one can measure the path of God

For too many lives, we've fought to recognize truth

In its proper sentence; its right accord with science

and discovery; but now we hold out death's arm,

Call up corruption as a sin; and sentence these

divine authorities to the sword; there's no claim for

justice, or of truth; only madness drives us under

We wash the stains of our dismissal; and read the books

Which state there is no condition we shall meet to

give us the right to remain silent; when the cock

crows and the penalty for this divide meets the mind.

I feel the edge of the earth moving in on me,

encroaching against my sympathy and my misfortune; I

breathe heavy, and I take a moment to reduce my death

To the regret and pain that I so often lack;

Hours settled here, beneath the old ash; breaking

silence; and spurring on the force of my insanity;

truth in charge of what we might become, as the mystic

Rolls her thumbs against her forefingers; and I wait

For the psychic drought of my unnecessary sin to sit;

plainly on the forefront of my death's intoxication,

Summer wasn't everything I'd dreamed of; and in its

descent, and the fall to autumn's sleep, I wish you'd

held me; held on through the immolation of my dreams

Certain that the fire will blossom, and certain that

the plain misuse of magic will erupt; I breathe the

whole of my exotic sin, and leave your name at the door

So many have tried to hold me down, to make me speak

the truth; and so many have failed to see the system

by which I introduce myself; the rolling fire transcends

Even after the simplicity of God is spelled out in disks

I fail to see the purpose, or the interaction of our

denied child; not breathing; not falling into arms,

an innocent dead girl; struggling for breath

I see myself within her struggling form; I see magic

And I see the taste of fear washing over her; even as

I plead with what God should come to aid her; even as

the whole transformation from a child to a youth begins.

With love and cruelty, I give myself over to you; yet

you have taken my remarks; and left them lingering on

the midnight breeze; there isn't any hope for renewal

You've sentenced me to the dissonant pain of loneliness;

On your mark, I've been set free to choose whom I will;

and who I want; yet that light has been consumed by your

breast, leave me then; with the lights dimmed

And I will choose another of your flock; the remainder

Of those who carry your indecision and awkwardness;

I will salute the caverns of your calling, and fly

my banner in this delicate breeze; even after all

Has been said; I look to you, as model for my attire

Strength in love, there is no winning force to pull

me in the right direction; there is pain, and so I

follow to the detriment of my soul's desire

Cruelty and love; a strange combination, but love is

a death match; there is no place for innocence or purity

Only sin will suffice to bring us into folding over;

To rid us of our guilty conscience; and swell the head,

and so I thrust myself into the congregation of

lonely hearts, to meet a reduced portion of what I knew

Skin is the attire of our innocence; our naked exposure

What worries me, is after the last rain falls; what

will become of us; will death consume us both, and carry

us into a fragile hold; where we can walk in shadows.

I drive my blade into my blood, and let it bleed; it is

the shortcoming I was bred for; to watch the silence's

seed take root within my voice, to carry over into

Tomorrow's gripping daze, so I may breathe without

Report, and without measure; too many lives have dusted

the pages since my birth, there's too much calamity

and mistrust gained through the isolation of one

Woman's spell; I try to hold a candle up to the flame,

but fury and its scent have stripped me, and bled me

Only a small measure of reason survives, and even in

the darker pages of this unholy text; I find myself

the center of imagination's play; gaining the draw

Of fire within my blood; and an arrangement of death

Sympathy comes in small amounts; raw sentences of our

continued usage; and when the door sweeps open, I want

to find you on the other side; holding it open for me

But distance doesn't descend to the depths of Hell

And for all our history, written in the stars; there's

only one collusion we can fulfill; our prophecy of

night's attainment; as it was centered on your body

Stripped bare of any cloth; and stripped bare

of love's conquest, as it was written in the holy books;

Love doesn't lie; it is the smooth and awful penalty

And mine burns still, for you; even as the heartache

mends; it is a sore and violent plague upon my soul.

### The Difference

As though you could have felt my arms wrap around your

skin, and though you've bled enough in this life for

several men; I know what you had meant by it, when you

Said there was a separate juncture for our sinful fates;

No modesty claimed, and only light cruelty; we are

destined for separate shores; and that I can bear; but

let me have a taste of what I'll be missing

Open your lips; expose the bare truth of our communion;

And sink a while, beneath the ocean's tide; run wild,

and taste the fluids off my fingers, each drop of

ecstasy will callous your mind; and make it numb

Art and science; these two, tapped into fate; and the

curiosity of stars; Heaven knows, but you won't accept

the boundaries of our desire; let the manic drive

Corrupt your skin, and let the ocean's breath take yours

away; feel the panic beneath the surface; and let go

Opened eyes, running wild with the taste of fresh blood

I'll wrap your hands in purity; and leave you restless;

on the ocean beach; divided in your stance on what

remains of youth, I'll leave you drop dead gorgeous;

And you won't forget the taste of my blood,

So, in silent moon; in simplistic prayer to the Goddess

and to the ancient wisdom of years gone past; and to

thunder; and the arrival of a youth supplanting fear

I distance myself at the divide, and call the night wind

Wanting; as I am wanting; and I will be estranged with

the truth, and I'll be bleeding when her prescription

comes; and through our life's dissonance, I'll descend.

Fear and the elect; a prostration of sympathy and

irreversible obstruction; I pose my flesh for you, love;

in order that you may see me bend my waist; the valley

Of the gods is clear and free from death's insidious

Persistence; and the path is welcome, how we walk; into

fire and beyond, into the calligraphy of the stars; I'll

show you your place among the heavens; as happiness

Contains the fortune you have sought; death among the

Risen, and among the righteous ones; as they interact

with peace, only to reveal your frozen sentence; picked

from the lies that you espoused; great deeds won

In the calamity of our renewed breath of the devil's

speech; take me far from here; take me up and reach

beyond the moon, for our transfixed place among the

Stars; ever brightly shining, I give to you my heart

in a locket; destined for its place around your neck

And as whole arms drape down to encompass me;

I shoulder them lightly; you alone were meant to have

this piece I wear; and it's for you I draw it close

Neither has the sentence that God created, ever spoken

more plainly than this; you are nigh, and I walk alone

Dressed in silk pajamas; draped with pearls

And when you take your clarity, and seize my heart;

I'll lengthen your wrists; and make your arms my own.

This insidious romance; broken bottles spinning wildly;

it is the dark confession of my blood, to have and to

hold you through sickness and through death; while each

Lie's confession steals a drop of water from the sea;

And as we place the hook around your neck; the blissful

eyes of eternity wax ; and they gain their strength by

my refusal to cooperate with fate; to resolve this

Series of betrayals; and pursue a thread of poisonous

consumption; the wax medallion of my fire; holding onto

death's entrails may be the only portion of my skin left

Devour me, in this synthetic wind; and drain me of my

Innocence; unleash the demons trapped within; let them

wail; let them watch my purity arrive in its synthetic

form; let the hood hide me from my sins; and capture

My essence in a bottle; sealed with my perfume; what

sense is this, to reason with the homage to the stars;

What sense in madness and its coming; when I collude

With the disintegrating parts of youth and my attire;

when the darkness of the night falls purely on my head;

and the foreskin shows its plight in this fanaticism

Reach in, through the hegemony; and pull out the seed,

the endless heir to death and her conquest; make the

night redress herself; and make the belly bleed

Sever the patterns of disruptive aim; and condense

The spoils of our gathering, reap in the arm of certain

exposure; and fill the basket with the glory of God;

And in each extracted reduction of our sin, we'll purge

the forest of our iniquity; and reduce to stoic

sentiment the railway of our fire's last burning.

A radical shift in time's percentage lost; a quiet

quake and the rafters split, without our bodies to

acquire the loneliness forbidden in this escape

Reality's banquet and the chasm closed for

redistribution; with this ensemble; there's no escape

from the excitement one must feel; the shaking hands

And the desolate heart, dissolved in soured liquor

I give you the atrocities of my affection; broken with

shards of glass at eventide; my wake, and my unwanted

ice, mixed with blood and ivy; a vestige of our sin

What would perfume the halls and make the hallowed;

to spend our lives breaking codes that never allowed

reason to refuse an order of the most high God

Even now, in the western lands; they lock hands for us

Destiny's applied fate; and the lapsing of dreams onto

the collateral damage of science and reason; insanity's

small hand, as it plays into the accumulation of faith

I propose we sing ourselves to sleep, taking shelter

beneath the old oak; and using a scientific approach

to stealing magic for the earth; our cooperative love

And as we make our conception blossom into being; the

rough hands of your body, raised up against the feeling

light of the night sky; I turn my head into the west

And watch the sun dissipate; where you have held your

purpose and your goal; I try to carry under my dreams;

As fortune becomes a plain, unholy letter for the gods.

A death in its course; succeeding in enrapturing the

mind in an intoxicating wasteland; I try to fathom what

it must be like for you; experiencing this talent show

For girls; for letting down their hair, and pushing up

Their fealty; for they swear anything these days; until

the last man falls; and so, as such; the reasoning

portrays her beauty and as we are, and as we will be

Bent on a handhold for destruction; destitute for prayer

I love the last line of this sentiment, grey dust

shattered cement; the lines of beauty corrupted in this

grey dirt; and the ashes look no different from the

Flames; there is a silent wanting, and a restless eye

come now, take my hand and hold me hard against the

cemetery wall; rough house me; give me something I can

feel; for pleasure or for pain; lonely sentiment

And as you strain for your ill begotten memories;

I feign lusty eyes and spread lips open and intoxicating

I draw your hourglass shape against my own, like liquid

Flames surging through your blood; and as we complete

our magic circle, and shy away on bounteous lies shed

thin; I make amends with God, and the devil; and season

My youth with the reason for my love; the urge for death

And the howling science of a full moon; bleeding.

The liquid lies you feed to me, in the silhouetted room,

where my descent pertains to death's ascension; and

open arms could feed me a definitive seduction of your

Kiss; slowly I awaken, and dissolve into a lover's

trance; this beauty opens up my heart to feelings of

pain; but I press on, and sink into your bed

A momentary lapse in judgment; a frail exposure

Descending stairs seduce me into your gravity; into

your hold; and there I open arms to death, and to

your face, floating on the wind in my madness

With golden wings; I stare up at the stars, and their

commandment; I patch my wrists where I had bled; and

sing alongside the holy angels; their benevolent tune

And here, among the godhead; I take my pause

Molested by your anxieties and your fears; consumed

by demons' fires; the ancient transcriptions of the

gods played out through an american accent

And while you sit your stains upon my chest; and sip

on the blood of your own transgressions; and offer mine

up, to your lord; I swallow the slow, receding pill

Firmly holding you, between my breasts; as morning

comes about, rocking your almost lifeless frame

There was a warning when you came; the seeding of an

angelic form set down in stone the reason

Certain tides roll heavily in upon the sea, and these,

my love; are bound for your perfection, and your gaze;

let them come, let them wash over you; so we may be

As one, enlightened by the midnight's flame.

The last time I opened up my window; was for the summer

breeze, extended; there were two lies I told myself then

And neither one of them could rescind my longing love;

Positioned within the flames; within the heart of death,

I could close my eyes, for what; the movement would

make no difference here; I'm in the wall, and buried

Breathing violently for any mark of welcome to surmount

against the skin; my emboldened brace; keeps the

collapse from pressing in; and holds my life in balance

You were wasted all these hours, I remember; drugged

And reminiscing of temporal things long past; the

momentary glimpse of love you feel; when you are falling

What little lies I tell you, and what becomes of me;

After the moment of my death, when violence strikes me

from the inside; and when fever and the cold come on

There is a creeping sentence scribbled in ink on the

surface of my mind; a delicate reminder of who I am,

and why the wheels of fate have turned so; for me

You've come in my solution to this destiny's state;

Long gone are the seeds that once surrounded me; the

sinister sands of time, which we had used to plant

our only garden; the growth through it incredible

I stopped time; I stopped faith and freedom, love;

Even as the seed spins; and all the saplings turn about,

there's a fire of death in me; a heated song, and you

don't want the message to deface your hours spent.

Despite the tragic endings of our last foray; I show

you still my heart, and how it beats for you; the rhythm

of its hour-long conquest; and attempt at sanity

I bite the needle; before it enters skin, it's a long

and desperate climb to reason from insanity; and as I

rise among the workload of the dead; I carry with me

the dissonant collection of words, which you have

Ushered in; the soul is toxic; with violence in its eyes

And every breath becomes a new sort of madness, leaning

on the corruption of our bath; our strength in silent

waters which we will shed our tears upon; the light's

Magnificent retainer; and so does fortune's skin bleed

My walls are white; too white for painting on with

anything more than blood; to pure and clean, and

systematically virtuous; I raise my hands to the old

Well; where we have buried our songs into the hole

One small, troubled girl went down; and another rose

from out of her place; my own esoteric form of beauty;

And the benefactors of my grace hold hands with me;

As interest in this dark, blossoming girl proceeds;

there is silence at the thought of what I've become;

and madness once again becomes a duty for men and

Magicians; the fortnight's stencil; all black with a

light of truth to overpower it; the rainer's ire, as

she claims the motion of her madness caused her illness

And even as she bleeds; I speak her name against the

motion of the clouds; against the murderous fits of

lightning; and I bathe within our brass tub; clean

Of the secular stains of sin; which pour into my eyes.

We have it in our lies, the cool ascension of our silken

forms, I wade out into the deep; looking for your

indecision, but finding the keys to the kingdom instead

We wash, as though our sins were some foreboding isle

And we dress ourselves in silks and let the threads of

our attire move each other's desires; and our motion;

Swells complete to the unearthing of the sun,

The file, and the fanatic; and the washed sponges of

our histories, make black with ink and sewage;

Something must contain a purpose for our livelihood;

there must be some, however inconsistent pain which

answers the questions that we bear in mind again and

Again; some fair fruit; knowledge of good and evil;

And the sustenance of delivery through the veins; our

cast has unearthed sentences of stranger thoughts;

While the matter's loose; I want to tap injections

into skin; into the weathered blood stream, so we may

hear the distance from our night within the mind's

Embellishment; stray wraps of thought, seeping out into

the morning's light; however close you come to touching

my dispensing doll; I'll fuck you up, so don't breathe

Down my back; and I won't tread lightly on your death

And I'll move on into the shades of an open pool; ready

to bind myself to a free hand, a hand that doesn't

require blood; or the stain of innocence submerged.

When the winds take us slowly, and there isn't any time

for the rebirthing of the stars; to change alignment,

and the cock crows, out the window and in the yard;

I freeze my sweater, and take my socks off; there isn't

anything left to do; but pray, and so I sing a hymn

To the darkness in the night's sky; to the disembodied

evil lurking within me; and I catch the cornerstone

as it is thrown to the earth; my blood, and my life

As if it were enough to rise against this holy fire

The seasons change, and in wanting for redemption, I

have changed; not knowing where I stand, or where the

symphony plays; I cut my wrists and bleed; for all

The reasons I have stayed indoors, seeking solace;

fearing vengeance and its course; the diamond stops

the withdrawal of pain from my hands;

And each step becomes a steady state not to be disrupted

And while the earth plays at Heaven's request; there

isn't any lie I could lay down; to make this pain last

longer; there's no sentiment for angels of of saints

To bring about the lasting fit of rejection's taste

Love couldn't keep me from this night; and even in the

arms of another, I'd leave them hanging on while I

disrupt a bit of blood and cease my tainted steps

There's no room left for disagreement with the angels;

Only the violent compulsion to try to make a mark

upon my skin; so I take my knife and bleed myself;

cutting in a diagram of some unholy mark; to use

As fragrance for a spell I never wanted to recreate.

Two's company; but I can't find the answers to bind this

secret circle, I can't find anyone new for replacing you

There is a rack in the basement, full of wine; but as

our sins grow heavy, and as the sacrament grows dull;

Even as the stars become too bright to bear; I wilt

And this receding light within me hollows out my frame,

I cannot pursue the mind of God; I cannot even attempt

to clear my own name, there is a poison bleeding through

The shadows of my veins; and clear contempt arouses it;

What vacant lights could bloom and shatter the refrain

of my memories; these awful spots of gold and sequins,

mixed with the blasphemies of the devil; a tired spot

Soothing in its refrain, a melodramatic sequence of sin

And as I curse the firstborn child of my womb; and as I

watch your body melt in the conception of my seed;

The loins grow tired of interruption; of conjecture

And as I complain, the body melts; my seed erupts; and

every piece of me becomes the sainted skin of some

other mess; I wouldn't have the will to keep refrain

From latching onto your sanity's cluster; but there is

little I can do to keep the wolves at bay; come now,

Let us keep the peace between our souls; scrape insanity

From the remainder of our bough; and eat the fresh fruit

given us in the garden; we'll make the remainder of

our sins less holy, and more abundant through our guise.

The ascent to sin, and its betrothal; the curiosity

of steps across containment and into the realm of

fantasy; so much life bleeds because of our unequal mass

I skew the lines that were meant for redirection

To my bliss; and to my soul's perfection; and in this

state of unreality, I drive away the madness of my youth

Choking out disparate parts of my reason's thought to

live; reading between lines of parallel thought; these

crops of contemplation; purged innocence and stripped

Ascension; I can tolerate only so much blood before

the body begins to boil; and the heart begins to fail;

When all is said and done, when all the words wash away

Only left, madness and heartache; nothing of sanity;

and reason, and life's simplistic views

But now, I call upon the darkness; to consume my last

breath; even now, I feel it is an end; to all of

summer's peace and autumn's cradling bed; I dive into

Winter's cold heart.

And here, I seek the solitude I've always wished for;

it's here I string the bones of the dead outside my room

And when the wash bucket is full of their rotting

corpses; I'll drain the water and fill the basin with

wine; and drink my fill; drink to the death of a God.

In the affected point of sorrow; and the end of skin,

where we redress our wounds, and carry on through the

night; in a silent charade of self-inflicted pain

The moment collapses, as we redress ourselves; and

hurry into madness; for the cock to crow at midnight;

While the hen completes her grave; shoveling bricks

and stones; while the repentant give their sentence to

the unearthly side of penitence; I give you the softly

Spoken night, and through the door; delivery, for all

shadows fall to pieces when we say this prayer;

It isn't fair use; it is a blasphemous arousal, which

Perks up the skin and leads me to another ride of

reason's bad luck; there are strong emotions coming;

which preclude the hour's meaning past the dawn,

Only in the end, we'll mystify this madness; only in the

end will we ever praise the God we've devoted so much

Of earth's time in static symbols; or the hard sequence

of synonym through synthetic spores of anger turned to

crystallized contortions of a spell, fast ritual

Incantations run wild through the streets; which are

the good, and which are the evil; if only God knew;

There's mercury in a bath of blood; and there's no

slate, and no escape to Heaven for this descent; what

will belong to God when the horses leave their stalls

Only in the here and now; only while the lonely sink.

The dose of poison that you gave me, it settles in my

lungs, and in my veins; it eats out my heart, and

withers my desire for anything but you; you have become

My life's staple food; but there's no bread at table

Nothing substantial of yours that I may consume; you've

left me hollowed out and vacant, and while my tongue

fights to find your flavor; every floor is taken

And what has come from miles away to leave me desolate

Drives out the series of this complicated shock; reduces

threat of debauchery; and toxic blades of grass become

my steady intake; I cannot find the winds that blow

For steadied and for severed lies; for opened wounds

That flow red into the western lands; where they recede

in a bath of blood which no one can unsummon; there,

they'll make a mark upon the earth, and in the sea

Reason's fealty to the gods of this last century's

Renewal; our birth into an atomic age of infamy;

severed lives, broken through mass destructive means,

Small shadows broken thin against the grinding of

machines; it is the christmas mass which blooms

And sunday's virtues that drive the heathen on

Small steps in the shadow of our Lord; a broken peace,

And fear that we will one day hear our consequence;

the blinding light of death rained down upon our homes.

Bleak shadows in the midst of my misfortune; come clean

and carry out my death; on woven silk threads, tied up

against the rafters; and with the blade I've carved

My name into my flesh with so many times;

Young blood, and young romance; tasted so many times

upon our lips; and the query of our distant sin,

left dry and breathing in the winter's air

I will flock; and I will rest my wings at the appointed

time; sleeping in the yard, where you can come to visit

when the snow lies over me;

Satan's reserves, and the contemporary plot for my

abduction; the only stain upon my blouse is from your

nighttime sin; and the only way to recover that memory

Is through the complaint; and I am falling through time:

And what dents cause you to suffer,

and callouses protect you from my peering eyes;

what flesh dissolves when it is touched;

And what the taste of your thoughts, as you lay down;

that innocent parody of sin's complaint; while I bite

I'll fix you to the bed, and pull the straps; tight

and make you divulge everything to me.

Even as I stop you, and wrestle the stopwatch from your

hand; even as time corrupts our last stand, and all our

sins go unforgiven in the short time of the daylight

I lengthen our resolve to come to peace; and I watch

the wind blow through the attic; so many lives stand

at the threshold of our blood; so much identity wasted.

This contemplation, and the crossing of the great divide

The severed kingdom, closed for the destruction of the

law and order; all the world is chaos and consumption

And I cannot find the power to settle down, to ride the

fated cross-sectional advance; I cannot drown myself

in a flurry of heartfelt scientific splendor

The noose is tight, but the vine is weak, and wandering

minds are loose within me; scouring the plains for death

And as I pass through and make my presence known to fate

Every eye presses down on me, suffocating me where I

stand; and the brightness of the lights bears inwardly;

I can scream, if it would make a hollow pitch; and I

can come uncorrupted through the hollowness of my

speech; and raise the violence in me; to deaf tones

And as I sing, the world suffers for it; my closed

throat, purging what it can of indignity, the small

communion of my fire; and of water and the wasted yard

Several fires left standing; burning with the frequency

of God;

Happiness is a desolate place, founded by the freaks

of Heaven's descent; there is no curse which doesn't

hold there; and there is no wash basin to rid us of

Love's despair.

An ounce of forgiveness, for your troubles; here take

this pocket full of sand, and let it hold you over

until easter comes; draw it into water and let the

Thirst ruin you; and with it salt, and iron; bake

The deepest parts of your subconscious into bread;

break it, and fill a cup with wine, so we may not

thirst again; until morning comes; and even after;

A moment's kiss upon our lips; and you will tell me

everything of love's romance; and what I smell upon

you, is the slightest shade of medicine; of scented

Oils; and insanity's seduction;

The night's shade lingers over us; and through its

reach, we attain new heights; and seize the power of the

gods; and through our reaching length, there is a

Strengthened body, blessed by the deliverance of truth;

We'll come again to reason out this madness; and when

we come, there will be fire mixed with myrrh; and death

The sole triumphant song; a peaceful remedy for beauty's

cause; a soul's sadistic charm; washed out in a bed of

grass, I see you watching me, over my shoulder;

And I can hear the distance between us diminished;

Take your form, and folly; ride upon the high hills,

I'll see you better there, when thoughts and shapes

come new; I want to dress you at the waist, and

No higher;

Let the wind caress you, as you fall into denial.

The temptation into sin; and the distress surrounding

a vacancy in the bloodlines; our only father stripped

bare before the altar, and cursed into Heaven;

The gate was closed that day; fortunes turn

And the blessing of the lord stripped clean off; I

wound my necklace around my wrists; and called for

some light to travel down his veins

Into the blackness of his eyes; I saw Hell rip open

A dance with destiny, and with fate; the only two

surviving forces I believe in; it isn't my relief that

sees them clearly; it is the detriment of the stars,

And the sun's bright, familiar face; dancing on the wind

Two stones, one for me and one for you; to take the

wind across the pond and break the surface clean through

And I will watch the messiah scraping nails against

an earthen grave; making blood trails on his cemetery

plot; and even after, he'll gasp for air and find death

Waiting in an open casket; writing his name across

an endless sea of stars; and as we go, we'll find him

distant, and obscured; head lost to madness of science

We wait, in his open grave; together waiting for the sea

And when the waters split; we'll be side-by-side,

collecting dust and ashes for the earth to swallow

Rest assured; nothing can stop us now; we've come too

far for the bleeding of an owl or the sign of a helpless

hen to foster any misuse of magic on our part;

Let the clean waters settle; and let the clarity subsume

A vacant doom; a purged isolation field, ready to

disrupt a steady flow of dreams; our calendar corrupted,

and taken into misuse; the shadows fall, I know not

Where their silence becomes interrupted; but you could

fuse these iron bars to my hands; and you could say

the ceremony prayer, over me; and in this vacant lot

Whatever will be, will be; will pass away into the void

I flock into the fields, ready to take your splendor;

and though the cap dissolve in a bed of roses and death,

I treat myself to your serenity; undo your shirt

Unbutton the lacy crown of your backside; and let my

hands fall to your hips; at the waist, I dream of what

pleasures lie beneath your rose-colored skirt;

Three pounds of sentimental ire; and a twist of cold,

hard facts to dress the pain; my mother lies over

the ocean, and she gives me her iniquity to bear

These days, when nothing comes out from beneath the

dusk's high heavens; when all I can bear to see are

burning stars; and light; when no shadow of a thought

Turns to cruelty in a distant thought of pain;

Turn me into the death I have become, swallow me in

shallow waters until I drown; cut me, and let me

bleed; I am youth's sacrament; the swimming seed

When ordinary women find it a fallacy to turn my head

To madness, in hopes of overcoming sanity's sickness;

I redirect their inquiry to the church; to the madness

of God manifest; through the ordinance of sin's

Dispersion.

Camouflaged sequence of fears and doubts; a serene

remembrance of yesterday's disturbance; I find myself

at the cusp of a new and everlasting peace; boarded up

With the adherence to a faith lost in purity; a former

resemblance of Christianity; so many strains in its

evolutionary push; so much distance worth the wait

I pray, but there is no God to answer me; I raise my

own dead; the crying of my subconsciousness; and face

the fact that there are only two things which matter

Dust, and observation

The penalty for reform of the church; its isolated

matters, and its reflective sins; I strain my vision

to complete the query of my breast; to know a fact

When facts are an isolated mess of death and chaos

The viciousness of your brush with death, leaves me

sad; and convinced there isn't any other truth but

our distrust of religion; it isn't contemplation

Which makes a fool a fool; it is the dust storm breeding

I met my life's passage on the open sea; hurry, and

take a seat; that we may rise with the tide, and let

the ocean swallow us; so we may know certainty of death

Lust and anger, and the portrayal of death's decor

Open hands, prying for insight into magic; the word

unlocks the case, and makes insight into books and

spells; here we are at the bottom of the edge of the

Earth; pulling into greedy arms the meaning of our life.

A moment's shelter, beneath the sanctuary of the night

sky and its bleeding stars; what comes within the hour

Is a perfect gaze at Heaven's splendor; the synthetic

friction of a nobler cause; I pray, that God might

conduct the matters of our spirituality in closed

Quarters; Can God see through the dissonance of dreams,

and can He dispute the claim that only in conquest is

there any faith at all; I rise momentarily to see

What shade the iris is; and to piece together the

absence of our hollowed lies; broken and misused

repetition of shadows and sins; I love to undress you

With my eyes; slowly moving pyres of death

Hell reaches after you in a cold room, beckoning you

to enter; and as I follow after, the distance between us

lengthens, until I can only see a hint to the shadow

Of your form; an isolated obstruction to the pit;

I will construct for you a plague of ruin; and we will

watch the world's attire drop; exposed like bare flesh

ready for the fire; to burn her, after hours

And when I turn the furnace up; there will be change,

hours of long-lasting profusion as the immigrants die;

And even the righteous will perish in this sacrament;

Let the night know that this is her shadow; and this

is her flame for the purpose of our revolution; even

as the world burns; she'll be safe from plague; the

Night, left without terror of her own; the night,

With flocking cruelty to summon the seasoned flesh

from out of its birthplace; and into the devil's camp.

Lust will drive the demons out, our lust; wrapped in

the vicinity of sin; I cried, but couldn't manage to

molest this series of redemptive souls; I cried,

To the detriment of my self-hatred; even after the

blood dried, and the fortunes collected all my pain;

even in shadows bloomed for the everlasting fit of

Death; I make my bed awkwardly, as one who couldn't

focus on the path to God's intended strife; what women

reason is the truth; could one man's lies be fit

For my intrinsic hour; this death's sentence, corroded

by the midnight flame; are you the purpose I have sought

What habitation shall we dwell within; what flurry

Cries the night in comparison; resuscitate the dawn,

and every eye shall see you; even the death of

tomorrow's distant eye; and even as one, we'll sing

Do you ever get drunk; do you ever pass the willing

flesh its fire, and would you compose the victim her

greatest concert; in the vicinity of truth's despair

Four seasons set aflame, each victim a risen Christ

Once for summer's dawn, and the breaking of the glass

which cuts through skin; once for autumn's purchase;

the death of a reasonable summer's flame; and spring

And winter's vocal kiss; spread thinly through the

plains and into the hearts and mind of every living

being; a kiss of death, serene in its coming

Cemented call, confused and torn; this is the atmosphere

Of birth; and as it comes through the effigy of fire;

one word spoken; and another word truth; the hour of

redemption comes, and the called are not given life.

The life I'm offering is pain, and in it there is

speculation for your summary; its last intoxicating

breath, reduced to however you feel this very moment;

A synthetic avalanche of pain; and a clear intention

To love; only the most majestic animal; sacrificed for

its skin, and the boiling of its blood for ritualistic

medicine; could claim her part in the bounds of death

I wonder myself, who could have turned the weather

inside out; and charged the clouds past their intention

to pour; who could have restrained me from their lips

I wouldn't carry over my works; I wouldn't survive past

ten without a solid construction to call my own;

Raping the fire, and creating an avalanche; dust to

dust and ashes; feet to their succinct fold; their

foothold, while our arms dangle about like jellyfish

If there was only one absolute truth; then how did we

come to this; and what are we planning from here on out;

why does destiny fly; and how corporeal are the

Punishers; when all my motions are a mess; and my

madness screams out the date of my first wedding;

I crave a solitude; I crave the place where people

have their columns as their vows; their strengths

and weaknesses; and dumbed down struggles of their faith

This is the awkward end to a finished substitute for sin

Not only do the wreathes look beautiful on you; but in

your attire, there's a mask that's far from empty which

captures every metaphor of your face, and turns it loose

What's loose in the vicinity of faith; the easy trump

which sacrifices herself for the forgiveness of all sin;

while death watches on, and weeps; the hollow bowl

I gave you my innocence, and you stripped it bare;

leaving nothing of love or anger; only a death march

And as I come close to renewing my madness; and marching

Insanity's justice through the streets, I show a sign

of duress; of meditation's pause; the hunger that bleeds

Each present system of doubt's inclusion washes away

Leaving blood and anger; and the resistance of a nail

left pounded into flesh

But lives left dangling by the fire have no room to

breathe; and mine is sitting in the midst of death

I call you out to meet me, but there is no answer;

held up for the test with faith; I try again to reach

you; but there isn't anything I can do to comfort myself

Risen stars remember; but they speak systems from the

wind; and there's no complexity left for speaking in

the shadows here, life's decay corrupts the mind

And madness comes, filtered starlight blossoming on

the high bends of the light; even as the shadows pull,

I feel their strain and their triumph; at death's call

Marked by substance abuse; the real addiction becomes

the settling in of love's affection; and her lips

harbor secrets I never would have known before the kiss

Lost in madness; chaos, and confusion; I drink to you.

What's in the mirror; what's in my face that makes me

come off as a steady hearted girl; with no room for

emotional distress, what breaks me, is when I see

Within; the dragons, and the demons haunting me; and so

I reduce my eyes to tearing vessels; and simmer slowly

in the mire of my misfortune; I crave, and the delights

of my consumption are wild and exotic skins of death

You couldn't hold a candle to this memory of mine;

Of youth's corruptive stain, yet you try; to pin me down

There is no satisfaction from where you stand; there

never will be, born on the winds of these majestic fires

As Heaven calls, you answer the secreting stars; their

light and their abandoned bodies; souls ignite the fires

Of night's practice; but what of death, there must be

exchange for exchange, and rising storms could comfort

Justice holds out her hand and smiles on me,

If there were one wish in this world; it would be

that I could recognize my face against the mirror

Pressed in, and telling lies; this madness causes my

life's recognition to turn sour; who am I?

These lost, forgotten words have driven me drunk into

the resemblance of my father; only the silken scarf

of my mother could tear me apart from him; but I've lost

Identity; myself in tangles on the wind, and in this

drenched recovery of my own history; I fail to see

the system of my melancholy world reduced to a point

blank stare.

The mystery of my exotic mind; stripped bare of

synthetic disharmony, I choke myself to seize a bit of

its intoxicating air; while I make room for patches

In the darkness; every method of cross-contamination

Ripping threads and exposing bare flesh; and in it, I

sing the song of my redemption; and refuse to smile

Eighteen days since the eruption of my soul; and when I

left you on the shore, bleeding in your own dismissal

Shattered words, and concrete worlds mistaken for a home

for our repentance; it isn't the dissonant eye I seek;

nor the clash of our admonishment through the kitchen

Doors; I close off to you the melancholic madness

And stake my life on more simplistic terms; I govern

myself and my mistakes; and dream there is collision

A form of sovereignty to wipe away the delusion from

my mind; I've given up on people's judgments; and the

bright, translucent sky which feeds my ill adjustment

As the rain falls, and as the fortunes of the stars

Become manifest; with all power granted unto you;

through my waking storms of insanity; I will to you

my dreams and my confusion; I place within your hands

The existential path of my existence; bury me in a small

grave, and sentence me this hour to my death; make a bed

For us; and come into me, to taste me one last time.

The wheels of fate turn, and set me ill at ease; with

small branches filled with flame within my gaze; each

crystal hour I spend siphoning the paint from our

Host's chamber; drinking in the toxins for my death

While her smell dissolves upon my skin, and I can't

refuse her desires; love is lost to me, and the cup

of our transfusion is nothing but a creeping still

Photo of our youth, of our transgressions, and our

loneliness; a part transversal; and a categorical piece

of our invested sin; I try to remain silent through it

All; keeping quiet my true qualities of life, and this

serene decay of my composure; there isn't time for

letting down my hair; nor for incantations to the darker

Souls, who bleed; and who purchase life at death's

request, I come clean; and wash myself of this more

dismal thought process;

There's no place left for her here;

The qualities of my confusion, and my passing soul

reduced to insufficient dreams, and the protection of

my alabaster home; the cold profusion sinks in

Death from above; death from the cradle to the grave,

Each and every life shall taste her power; and they

will drive themselves into their own demise; even here,

triumph comes in small replacements of the skin and

Blood; and even an angel's song cannot protect us

When the will to choose becomes a small obsessive point,

and the feather in the attic isn't spent on divination;

there is a rising and a falling of the breast.

Unclasped; unwanting of this thing between us,

unbuttoned and removed; the skies weigh heavily on skin

You enter into the deepest parts of my reflection

Where only the lonely hearts travel, succumbed to my

stain of sin; and my misfortune, at being everyone's

sole remedy for inoculation against the purity of death

I harbor our transparent lie; brushed up half-truths

and sentiments contained within a smile, while you lay

on your makeup and your heart's desire; swollen in your

Breast.

Every moment after our rediscovery of perfect form;

leaves chance to the wind; leaves my longing breath

waiting for some imaginative response to what I'm

Craving; and no matter what the head feels like; when

it's swimming through this substance of what could be

called love; I know I'm drowning in it, and I cannot

Find my way through evolution's door

Soak me in it; purge me of our distant stars, and leave

me on the open tragedy of saints and sinners; I'll

wash my feet in the openness of dreams past due

I come, and what advice has brought me here is sin

Even after, when the world turns dark grey; and the

fields light up with a blood red shadow hanging over

them; there's no poison left to make it go away

If I could read the pages of your mind;

Leave the query open to discussion; and pour vinegar

down your throat, in a revival spell; a half-hearted

attempt to cleanse fate from coming on so strong.

The documents regarding change; our changes covered

by the dark and dreamless night; what was God, if not

forgiving and an impatient lover; more of dreams,

More of men laid one by one; deathly ill beside the sea

I've mentioned my move to the millions; who couldn't

carry me home; who couldn't spread the life sheet thick

enough to save their distraught souls; it's a bedtime

Metaphor; awakened on a plane; with the misfortune of

arrival at any past date; past tense, past when the

water passes its inspection, and we all go home

Comforted; except the one whose job it was to complete

the circle; to make a menace of this land, to draw out

power from the crystalline cavern and from death's head

A moment of silence for her, a moment of deep depression

Here's why we unmask the dragon; this is why we plant

the seed; so it may enter her, and bleed her dry;

Magic doesn't give, it doesn't take; it channels;

Let the light descent of dreams coming over me wash

clean my body from the mud; and as I stand, and you

stand; we'll fashion our mystery made from blood;

You'll take action when my heart stems away; and we'll

both feed on the intentions of the other's flesh,

To know someone completely, without having fallen for

their words or swollen measure of their lips; it is

a sentence, dusted and proclaimed pure and holy.

When sunlight fails to strengthen my relief; and when

the angels fall, and everything is chaos in my mind;

the whole universal cluster of my mind bends and sways

To the dissonant sounding of the wind; its entertainment

Oscillating as a free-formed substance, like glue to

the everlasting waste of what my water felt like

The moment before it broke

Your moment ended when you picked up the wand and ran;

ever since, I feel disgust and pain; the four winds

speak your name, but I do not listen, if fate is

Resolved to bring us together, I will make you miserable

Let the worries of the deep roll over me; and my hand

tremble in the sight of our Lord; and let the passion

of His play recess down and across my body and my blood

For a moment of feeling something, anything but my love

And draw out the fire and the intoxicating smoke that

was you; I want to bathe in clean waters; and let my

body drip dry; in the fashion of some old painting

Remember with me, the clear, blue skies we saw as

children; when rain met land and the sea could change

the earth; and how mystified a feeling it was

To watch the earth swallow whole each dripping sound;

You tempt me with reason, but I seclude myself in magic,

there is no burst of life in the autonomy of words;

of rhymes and dusty books; I try to reason with you

To let the insanity of form take you under and beneath

But there's no movement in your head, or in your limbs;

you have been corrupted by scientific process; and have

no love left within your synthetic frame.

The difference between worlds; we're all the same, some

metaphor for our internal lives; restricted by ideas,

and some small set of rules we try to live by; opened

Love, poured out from its canister; shook by faith's

interruption to our evanescent pearls of wisdom; reaped

calamity, poured out on the beads of our insistent fears

I walk through the body of death, and see my kingdom

come

An age of faith; into an age of everlasting denial;

Thrust, and make the sentence complete; devour the

titles to our submissive life; and play the fool,

Raised dead bodies; shimmering in the forces of the pool

Waste not, want; neither for the cold or the engraved

stars hung across the bedside table; while I walk,

In the earth's dawn; a phrase of succulent renewal

Charges though my veins; and I can play peace, and walk

into the rooms of the deceased; playing vowels and

consonants, leveling my face with those of strangers

And where the dipthongs roll; in through the lips,

And out again, across the paper; three-tonal lies, and

peace harmonized with deceit; it's all a focus of the

rules of this internal system; hoping to reject

The face of God; hoping to find some support within the

Stone circle; the magic eye, while those strange symbols

cast upon these stones are magnified by truths; ancient

melodies retreating into the sweet taste ot abomination.

In living, and in the dying of the breeze; a creature's

own dismissal of our exotic forces; and with our open

hands, we purge the mind's intoxication; its bent

Gravity; the dust from the outside, it's settling slowly

and when the world collapses, there'll be ruin among

the shadows of the deep; fractured voices, and stanzas

Left to verse; open prose

Do you want that I should feed the cattle their

obscenities; and leave them open sores that they can

feed on; while I feed on the flesh of their children

And as the ox gores the lamb, I shine my flashlight

Under and beneath their bones; existing promises need

not enter here, for the valley has been purged of my

denial; each socket of ecstasy left exposed to heat

I triumph as I call out the remainder of the midnight's

monogram; keep the strain of fortune washed with

polyesters; and watch the news on holiday as if it were

The first grass to transpire dew's awakened syndrome;

With heat comes the light of the firstborn sun, and

in its synchronicity comes a claim of heaven; as when

it shined with God; before the fortunes had turned

And turned everything sour;

Even the sheep come home to rest, even their bleating

minds come home to purge the resonance of their game

And as the holy water spills; as the dove enters into

the grass and pecks; there is a silence and a dissonance

Each grain; left wanting as a reminder of our flesh.

Our insight into the magicks of our youth; the blind

compassionate push to see through forms and shadows;

the blighted past, now steady for the ancient tongues

I hold you deep, in the ancestral fields where we had

awakened from our spill into death's fire; the open

tongues of flame, in the vicinity of our corruption

I dance with you; I crave the company of sin; its long,

black hair; cradling me and the perspiring lengths of

her contrariness; holding me under the pull of the tide

Perception's spire; and the entourage of saints,

sprawling where one can see the redemption of our death

So long this pull of spite; where one can see heaven's

unearthly fires purging the world of extraneous sin

Lengthened desperation calls, and I renew myself of

motion and let the angels speak through me; a moment's

madness and I corrupt the wire

Prostituting forms for reason and imbecility; the

strangeness of synthetic pursed lips; kissing death

As if death were of the great divide;

Hold onto me, in my deceptive pose; so I may seek out

secrets of the dark; with only you as my guide;

Perception's post, where one could see the ancients

rise up from the mire; and watch as the indecision of

God marks the trappings of the mind; who knew what

Magick would bring, when it resolved.

The purchase of a deviation to our home's routine; a

stock, sorted rise without windows for our fall; the air

Enters in the lungs with gravitational pull; as I see

it; there are two ways here for going under, and without

Our sea's incessant strong attachment to our solid raft;

the complacent stare of serene beauty captured in the

mindset of a hollow man's enchantments; a blind dream

Focused size, and dithered welcome marks made upon the

hands; I want to taste the ivory deceit that God had

left when He marked the ghosts imposters; two regretful

Lies melted into a steaming pot; with one small

sacrifice; the bleeding out of a sinner; the curse of

a contrary child, and a dream; risen on pure infinity's

Wind, and suckled there; a far haven to place the cure

With open arms, I say; let them come and take away our

peace; let the whole world know that we have chosen

badly; and that the hour is near for the repentant heart

Glory and death belong to God; but God is past-tense

So say we all; in the markings of our faith, and our

surrounding sins; there's too much to blame to let the

angels purge our lives; we must reconceptualize our

Concrete minds; and play with the medallions that the

Last generation lost in the plagues; and in the famine

and during the war of the entire world; and its sequel

Dreams compare to truths only in the steps surrounding

their birth; their conception; the phases of a chocolate

moon; bitten off and soured, and spoiled like bad milk.

Destiny's swallowed sword; and the fight for sovereignty

To the adulteration of the simplicity of form, and

compass; swallowed with a measure of doubt; I do declare

the unbreathing, passionate resistance to change the

Commonwealth; it breeds the eyes of seduction

Reticent betrothal to the masquerading power of the

night; God's instruction waiting in a field of flowers;

and the twofold dream of sanctimonious resistance

Every calamity holds the power to upheave; I give you

the evening stars, held up against the fires of the dawn

Some small sacrifice against the urging death of

substance; the traveling intoxication of the drive

toward death; I hold in my right hand, the plagues

And so our fire breathes empty scars; the dead night

Whispers my breath across the fields, and I; hold

longingly to this side of my demise, a presence calls

and what to the night but this dawn; the sainted hour

Life is but a bleeding pool of change;

Was it in the clouds that I found the final act of

destruction; or was it in the changing forms of suds

spread thin across the surface of the sea

One last cause for death, one final act

When all of our sublime interpretation of youth has been

recalled, and in our essence we change forms and react

with sudden clarity; I become the muse that has haunted

Me; I alone, the savior of my humanity.

This page and my complacent form; drowned within

reality's container, I brake for the assumption of our

invested hours; spent songs, and dreams; the shadow's

Play about my frame while I encapsulate what was left

I draw you into my rebellion; sore eyes and withdrawn

facial features; the clay that was my mind is gone and

dead; this last hour's denial was all I had; enough

Of my intensified longings; my passion and my desire

What intrinsic fields leave as honey trails in the dark,

and what of open arms and the hindrance to love's last

bath, set upon the ocean's crested moon; risen dead

In the unfortunate event of my calling; and of my death

There is only one last commandment I will issue; there

is but a seasonal breath of our intoxication; I walk

as though the water falls through pages; and leaves me

Bereft of the soul's resurrection; bereft of my beloved

Fire; and as the holds change hands; I see in the

shadows of a concrete realm what is ours; what visions

I could see muttering in the dark; you are my open plain

And as the hands break loose, and sway my rhythm sour;

Into the dark reception of an impossible recovery; I

swoon, and you bleed volumes of your beautific words

Strengthened by the sole sacrificial flame, guardian of

the dark stretches of night's passion; I look upon this

With wondrous eyes; feeling out the last sentence of

Patience; the golden lie; the stark recovery of sin.

One hundred thirty four, and the gates press in upon me;

there is a sentence passed, and the angels descend to

carry out the punishment; hope's delay gives justice

The right to renew our death through outstretched hand

If I knew you were the embodiment of some lost saint;

a fallen lord, with message carried out to the triumph's

retainer; I would have followed you more closely

Death stalks the night, and in her shadows I fail to see

any lost comparison; all look right, and the friction

of your words upon my skin; hold me upright

There must be sentience among us here; in the dark

Stretch of madness; even after the whole was swallowed;

and even after the containment had been held firm,

Focus on the will to reenact my sorrows and my dreams

When death's becoming silence cradles me; and when the

last purchase of her arms plays tightly against my chest

There, I'll find the empathy to come close and hold

her face against my hand; to relax, and let her speak

The shallowness of her offering;

And there, I will transpire into gold's chain of memory

and watch the gods fall into seizures; and into pain,

Prescience will come about, and the falling raindrops

will catch each pressure point of her remains

While in the shadows' speck of flame, I see fortune's

hand; as though she'd painted the world a different

color at last; and as she hides her face, I bow.

Contorted resonation of my last fall from grace.

She has me waiting for the cold redemption by her love;

and as the static sound of sea suds being rolled beneath

the share fills my ears; and the surrounding air removes

My last breath; I abide in the death of satisfaction

Within the roller's earthbound destiny, craving

something to take the edge off; so I can feel the

thunder of my fists rolling against your palms

How hard is it; to clear calamity in patience and bring

a smile to the insipid seer; to cause yesterday's

transmutation into tomorrow's sun; to pause and breathe

The hollow of my soul seeks shelter in this ensemble

Drive away the demons and the fear, while we commune

with angels and more magnificent beings than these;

there is a split, and an isosceles sharpness to this

Edge; death's match and the entertainment of the hour

Spent on silhouettes of Satan; spent on the dawn's cold

triumph; this spill, the severed song of the devil's

own malignant fear; his concubine in the southern sphere

While I hold a candle up in the dark chamber, I find you

holding on; as though the light had melted; leaving only

cinders and a small flame, hold on, dear love; it is

Just getting warm within these confines; breathe deep

And keep your sacred sphere close to you; your temple

spires walking on the edge of pain's transmission;

So much has burned, and there is so much confusion here.

The ambivalence in your voice, as you speak magick tones

The breast recedes into a state of sleep; soft, cool

breaths with a hint of fire's incantation; you walk

and step against my world; as it falls to pieces in your

Bath of desire; my caged flesh, patterned as it was

Against the stone cold semblance of a distant ice cave;

together, we stray into the deeper recesses; and mark

each wall with our only child's symbol; a pattern masked

By the crystallization of forms fitting into flame

I draw her sketch; and raise my wand below the wind,

below the entrance to the fronter part; and blow my own

inscription with my breath; I shatter the decent parts

Of you with my insignia; I wash the edges of my mark

Past dawn, and into the higher sun; feeling my way

through the blinding light and seizing my world, one

drawing at a time; it's etched in isolation, in redress

I pose your portion of the sequence upon a blade,

My blood transfused with a pocket of this growing ice;

redressed; I hold hands with you, and with the pocket

of my painting; this shadow mixed with blood's taint

The ocean's dip; and the sentence for our surmising

Left barren; as the swimming pool crawls with bodies;

our descent into the blade of death, and as we go

beneath this world's crust, and enter hell

All the seasons mix with ice and flame, and enter death.

The dark; with its habitation of soullessness; the dry

air, and the serene identity with our calling; a

redirection into what once was a purer part of me;

I drew you on the wall, your hands printed in my shadow,

And as the world succumbed to peace and fractured

beauty, I closed my fists and gave you the beating you

deserved; it was nice times, when lack of trust revealed

The true identities of ravens, otherwise scattered on a

darker plane; I had begun to fantasize that I was one of

you; leaving scant tracks behind me as I blew fire on

The wind; opening the closed container of my sins

Throw me out a bucket of rain, I need to feel the cool

chill; my mind i dry and furious with what has been

left to me; displace the doors and open up my secret

Cave; that I may play the wanting child; that I may

Dress in shades of brown and grey; that I may hide

myself in a bed of desolation; my own secret closure

for this intimacy of sin's baser words and needs

Tears fall, and I hear God's voice upon my ear drums;

Vocalized grammar spilled into the state of madness;

there is no defecating voice to plunder all my wants

and steal all my desires; there is no part of it;

The ancient and revolting sin becomes the fact that

God has left us barren, left us empty of our translucent

dreams; there is nothing left of a real transparent,

Silken God to put our hands about and call our own.

So that I might play the sentinel; while you take part

in the feasting of the souls; and I gnaw on broken bones

So that I might see the end of things; the terrified

moment of one's last peace with God; making amends and

breaking the commandments, so that I could rebuke

Myself, and take the horned way into the hereafter;

Blessed child; so secure in her undertakings, and washed

clean in the blood of an undying god; so little time

wasted for want of a new direction in this world

People can change, but societies follow the path to

destruction; even after looking back through history;

each claim's title becomes a mystery of where we were

Before the walls came down; and the mighty trumpet

called for peace, each land's sentiment entertained

Through the binding of our fires and of our blasphemies

Some sentences cause the chaos to erupt; some distances

are spawned from the edge of another era, while some

make due, to see the dawn of a golden light

Heroes and villains; and the army of the in between;

Your silent stalking does not go on unnoticed; I can

see you crowning yourself in the darkness of our cave;

If only there were dreams that could cause a triumphant

scar to deface the face of God; if only there were pure

silence, so the lamb could sleep; I would take my stand

And hold up my death to the sky; and retreat beneath it.

Our own terrified believers; wrapped in silken linens,

and as the drapes fall down about their ankles; there's

only two paths left to choose; it is a clearly distinct

Cross-sectional area from which to pour out their minds

And every angel knows the plot; the twists and turns;

each member of our cult, reaching for salvation's end;

But only the devout can change their minds; can alter

their paths to the resurrection of the damned; as all

Bodies are born with blood; and all blood carries a hint

Of stain within its skin; and I often confuse madness

for remedy; and I often find my way from stale and

rotten sorcery to witchcraft's purer forms

Even as the whale's eye bleeds, so do I concede to this

Atmosphere of beauty written in the density of skin;

I follow the ashes down; through the mire and into mud

While each moment we've forsaken sin; and grown the

plant of chastity within our hearts; each time

remembered; there's the horrid reflection of fire

And the state of the world burning down; and as it sits,

here we are; in the distance of an open flame; remiss

of sentiments and certain forms of luck and gain

Each envelope tied to the wearer's arm; as though we'd

Had enough of it, and wanted to let the world know

we support each other's claim that there's repentance

for the dead; and for the unwanted; the kingdom has

Come but it's not the same as the fairy tales; it is

ripped open wide, and bleeding through; waiting for the

world to usher in it's ghastly approach to magick.

As everyone criticizes the love we had for each other;

the place you took within my breast, our open handed

melody of familiar interpretation; our peace when we

Diluted all containment of our fields; the remedy to

Seized up anticipation; I wanted your affection, and in

the wrath of another woman's arms; I felt incomplete

Reduce ourselves to sin, and purge the reduction

When all the world fades to black, we'll find each other

on the shores of some imaginary isle; draped in long

cloth, and burning up with the lust and passion we had

Once before; Just taken for granted, I move you and you

cannot see the light; where I am bound, and you are

fading from my arms; and in the distance, there's a spot

Of death, creeping over you; the death beneath a full

moon; the glory of a seasoned retainer; the salt of

our recovery, and of our denial; rest. The world wants

Nothing of this infatuation; it breathes contempt

Between us; and as this fallacy of death lingers on

the pages of our tongues; we try to complete the circle;

Full throttle bastion of a contemporary sin; foul

redemption, taken in the blood of some ungodly schism

I reach out to you; with pain, in denial of what could

have been, but you take in your breath; and seize the

pavement's curse; you wander longingly against the

Cover of darkness; seeking to reveal what was broken

While I, in the shadow of denial's substance; catch

my breath and seek out the pain I've felt so many days;

looking for the cavity of truth, to retain my memory.

When friends abandon, and the closed calling of the wind

sets me ill at ease; and dragon's breath becomes my

salient friend, I try to walk both worlds; my madness

Becoming the station to my confusion's past; it echoes

Through the encompassing streets; and my solution to

this threaded lively state becomes discouragement;

entangled lies and the beneficence of God; derived

And my bleeding parts become the unclean sanitation

I was hoping would renew myself from sin; and this

desolation I have felt, between teeth; my lies in

Discovery were helping to hold out this injunction

So many past betrayals; so much confusion placed between

my legs; while I resolve to tap into reactionary states;

Power, lust; greed, held high through the dissolution

of our date among the willows; weeping as they were for

love's sad song to end, I will dissolve myself in you

And encourage a cluster of stars to come about, unbroken

While the filter for my delusions comes complete and

the denial of myself brings on an effigy of death

Rain down fire; and bring the gusts

Youth, in any form; it is the youth that is portrayed

with beauteous eyes and firm breasts; complacent deaths

And stared into, like a mirror for the magician

Love's conquest never ends; it is in the motion of the

earth, and all its emissaries; so I find you there one

day and gone the next, and onto another strain of sins.

As the past breaks, and encourages the start of a

revolution; cast in iron and stilled by the mists of

a dissolution of breath; I claim you as my own

Let destiny decide the fate of our entanglements

And justice hold the hands of our derived anticipation;

while we scour the deaths of our guardian angels, and

decide the direction our love should take

Two worlds, combined into a single phrase; let the

placement of recession's sign be the one to reflect

our position; while the seasons pass through changes

Of their own; an indecent sign of God's recovery

Threatened hearts letting loose the decision to pass;

pointing out their senses' strife, and winding down

across the fields of chaotic winds; what blows down

Through the destructive fire; couldn't pass as sin

Below the requiem's snare falls the fool; plainly

painted faces, echoing in the dark their decisions

The hum. Reduced to sprawling chaos with a hint of fear

I would let you go; to let this reflection of our love

pass into non-existence; but there's a gnawing in my

womb, where you had planted yourself; and it grows

Hungry for the compassion of your love; deciding fate

Love's last glance before the ruination of the world;

our last chance to receive each other's sins; and I

will open my lips wide to receive yours

Buried flesh; reduced to the contemplation of our skin's

demise; buried within each other, in a fit of ecstasy

And the reduction hurts; with each pressed wound you

offer; I come. Lengthening the dress you've planted

over me.

The infraction left me scarred; but now I long for your

entanglement; the open wounds and the closed surrender

of our dreams, blood pours easily and mine is ready

To spill; Even after all this time, my heart abandons me

The rift in time's continuum spills over, leaving

nothing of the washed souls of purity, they writhe in

flames and gather in the trumpets of our yesterday's

Renewal; so slow this decay, such enduring frames

Opened wounds bleeding softly, open wounds reduced to

gashes in the skin; our non-enduring stain, set firm

with callouses; before time could surrender to us

Everything was washed in sin's blood; the filthy ice

Of death, so where were you when the angels spat their

fire and brought the walls down; where were you, when

the remains were baked in the blood of the lamb

And everyone was sentenced; and everything became a pit

of desolation, tread lightly, love. Even the winds don't

dare to touch the shadows now; your fear will take

A part of you I haven't even touched before; so silence

Becomes the greatest reflection for your form, and mine

is my reduction into sin's great pool; I walk firm

and handle all my breaths with wasted youth

Even as the candle wax separates an hour from a day,

so my love is set bare and exposed to you

Firm touch with a touch of gentleness; what I crave

My hands have spoken, and my love dusts off the shades

of your gentleness, so you may speak to me in darker

shades; and tap into the world which remains unbroken.

What constitutes passionate revival of the senses; and

how do I find you, when you have gone from me completely

There is a sickly death inside of me, aching for your

affection; but that serene star has folded in upon

itself; bringing desolation to the senses; and to the

Mind; what world will encompass me, now that you have

gone; my angles, the walk of my desire; what I crave

Is madness; and the desolation of my night

I stay my hand; for joy is just a sympathy call; what I

desire is the enchanting soil's mind, left to bleeding

Witchcraft and sorcery; magick. These will stay my blood

An infinite science of creativity; the blood moon;

howling reminder of you and your redemptive call to me

Through the remaining time spent in life, I'll make my

mark and drive out these pressing demons with my knife;

Blade pressed against skin, and the blood trickling

Down into my cup; which I will drink, this

self-infliction and scarring, becoming my worth and

my delusional remainder; I'll have no more of fashion

And design; these cradling stars and derisive chants

My only last touch with death; they will be my craving

in the absence of a muse, these will be my cut and my

survival; chained to the serene identity of my bite

Against the senses I have felt before; chained solely

To the remainder of my beauty; as it has fallen out of

youth, I'll stay my hand from love's affair; and tackle

a more compliant source of magick to keep me sane.

What I can have, and what I want; the feeling I have

given all I can, and still am wanting more from you;

while nothing is complete in the shadows of this

Wasteland; I call for you, in the darkness of my death

And wait; still wanting, but lacking nothing I desire;

it is a feeding frenzy, and I complete the circle of my

lust in baths of ecstasy and turmoil; so it grows

Our complementary scars; and opened wounds still

bleeding; the dust in our eyes, and the sole search for

our redeeming qualities; the mixture of death and soured

Milk; and honey's intoxication; I want to bathe in your

ecstatic denial of everything which has come to pass

An open bible, with pressed pages and a scarred face

And a trip down memory lane, broken pieces of our flesh

dangling beside an open fire; I want to control the

flame; and let it burn higher; I want to destroy

Our contradiction and our obscured dissection of the

past; to make the wounds close so I can reopen them

Nothing is as still as it was; not even the breathing

Your eyes speak wonders to me, but mine are open-ended

questions, seeping into the pool of our transgressions;

white paint spilled into the semblance of your form

A nude, in contradiction to the games you play with me;

And I spit into the paint; and I reflect upon the

changes won; so when it dries, I can recreate the poison

And burn down the vicinity of your reflected form; and

take with me the memory of death; of our rediscovery;

So I can keep a moment's order for my indecent stand.

The flesh fades, as I rediscover your alternative

pursuit to my redemption; you saved me once from this

necessity for sin; and for my eyes' disclosure

So I give you this, my entangled love's restraint

Opened arms and reopened scars; the severance of my

desire; a shift in the retirement of night; and to the

bleeding edges of the day; a dreamer's grimoire

Passed play; holding hands in the vicinity of love's

greatest pleasure; the withholding of our pain; our

thirst for each other's kiss, the warm mess that lips

Can give; I open mine to you, and force their touch

While your retracted sins play gently on my mouth; these

lessening drips of fear, entangled in the skin's

recovery; past the plain corruption of our senses

Drives the madness wild; and as we come unbidden in the

night's performance; I draw wild breaths; and claim

forgiveness for the intensity of my passion;

Only a lone star, bleeding throughout the night can see

us; only its touch could fade away the past of my

desire's strain; and only my love could save us both

From our retreat into the forms of sin; these stained

Remnants of our howling; and what I desire more than

you is the emptiness of death; the cradling arms of

love's last touch, before the howling of our hiss

It's sweet that you remain through this severed form

And while I withdraw into my covered cave; this holy

cavity; wherein I stretch my soul and breathe; I hold

you firmly in my arms, and whisper the redemptive

Phrases of our last withdrawal into sin's retreat.

You come in, and I allow your filth to travel after you;

so here we are, in a state of sin; while the rest of

your request has fallen into the semblance of denial

I trust you, even though I know I shouldn't; I give you

room to require of me my death; and though I know the

statement you have made is little of truth, and far more

Fantasy; I let you corrupt me, even in my youth when I

was barren; and filled with the melody of innocence

Push harder, and enter in; the scabs have sentenced me

And in this denial of a frame for destruction, my

pattern is bereft of form; and my life constitutes a

fair fit for an improbable decay of destiny

And in the shadows, there's far too much resemblance

of you; and in this frame of fitting form, there is a

denial of truth that staunches any life's susceptibility

I draw you in, locked between my legs; I fashion you

Wholly consumed by my flame; as if to know beauty is to

know thyself; and I know you, you are the doctor to my

disease; the fiend of wickedness to my resolve

Even as the clothes drape down around me, there you are;

Denying me of my attire; reflect your passion in my

frame; lengthen your right to smother me in the night;

Love me.

And take this broken mess of my delivery, aim your

gun at me; and shoot. You are my savior in the dark

robes of a deadly sect; you are the unraveling of my

Soul; once we have completed our dark ritual, come down

the road with me, there is a place for you next to

where I live; there is a place for both of us.

This home, where we last sent our replacement to the

lock; our fortune's aim, and the retirement of sin

This last blasphemy; holding me under the water's rim;

As I awaken, another piece of me stripped; I'm bare,

a ruin of my former self; tied in the attic; close to

sleeping, and I will dream of you, and your intoxicating

smell; I'll awaken to the purge of this incessant drip

The noise of my recession; the sceptre of my calling

In this unfortunate lack of luster; the skin remains

taxed, lacks the tones of exotic allure; and in

simplicity of burning lust, endures the hardships

Poison and a molecule of motion; pressed in against

the science of your flesh; one grand attraction

placed in the center of the room; our light and our

Transmission; a cure for each infraction of our bed

Desire's strain, and the redemption of our feet, this

dancing sound dressing the floorboards, and your exotic

womb; silencing my tears with a broad based smile

What would I do, if you were sentenced to death

I would join you in this plot to cover the depths of

Hell with sinful glares; I would encompass your being

And let the teardrops fall upon my face and through my

hair; each glistening surrender to my fears would last

There's a silence in the thought of you, my dreamy

wonder; where would I have come without you; and where

would I be when the stars dust the night; so it's in

your hands I belong; even as the grace of God demands

Each moment of this life is a delivery from death.

In our secret system of reproductive sin; our inequality

bares the measure of an opened womb, while you take

care not to trespass on my grounds; or wake the monster

Syphilis and sores; the unholy remainder of our death

To be released within the hour's span; to glean death's

sentence, and hold hands with you; I rise at your coming

And at your falling out with God, to the arrest of your

becoming endlessly omitted from the holy books

Severed stains reminding me of our vacation in the

clouds; before the attic was filled with fire and our

untimely death; we make statements as we walk in tandem

Precious reminders of what we could have maintained

An honest grouping of reduced synthetic brain matter;

your hand and my mistaken sores; leading to more

reductions through our faith; the bleeding sentiments

Of purposeful and stinted sins;

Cream colored cloth; woven through the shadows of my

reflective memory; an open vessel, containing my

misfortunes, and your spoon; a dry and formative belief

In God; to where the crossroads make a bit more sense

I relieve you of your omission; and sentence you to my

redemptive qualities; the silence in your arms, and in

my mind; we'll let go as the angels sing her name

Love's last messenger; the quietude of dress, as we

succumb to ancient speech; the redemption of our dreams

And as the last spoken word comes forth; bring me the

vacant necessity of life, so we may compromise our

daring unborn sins; and wait for night's rebirth.

The murder of the self; inflicted harmony and

progression; two synthetic planes of our existence;

The dominant projection set forth with magick and a

scar, systematized through a coat of arms; and

hieroglyphic scars; I set our table in accordance with

The stars; their phallic symbols stretched thinly

As the morse code reminds me; there is plenty to do of

pain, and transgressive sins; we each cover the bases

with mercury's confessions; and what of mars, with the

Light base, overall transpired and exhausted; spent

Lovers' quarrel, and the wait for distant strumming

of a reflective power; the horse collapses, leaving

breath bare, and an exhausted sin; thread bare minion

Two's company and three an oscillation for the beast

The squirming coil that waits beneath our synthetic

stair; waiting for us to come home, so it may burst

the seams of our conjectured past; our indoctrination

Felt your hand touch my leg, I came on holiday to let

you be corrupted with my flesh; I froze the frames

so we could live in isolation for a touchstone moment

Each salted seed of death that you require for your

indecent exposure to the sun; while the sea waits for us

I complain, but there's a calling I can't decide if I

can purge; myself in chains, while you lay wasted,

in denial of the innocence you've gained; almost

Knowing what you've spent of death could come at cost

One movement, and I'll succumb to your indecent resolve;

a split in time, while I remember the coming of your sin

in the past tense of loneliness' chain; I give you mine.

A folding over of space, into the nexus of our recovery;

an ancient sin; even better than the last, as we purge

our feet in the wash basin; of dirt and death, and blood

I come into you as the devil; and as your only friend;

I wake the demons sleeping inside of you, and complete

the need you have for dreaming; your desire's taste

Sacrament of death, and the washing of our feet in sin

You let me come across you, as a flame; soaking up the

injuries you've sustained, and guessing at the needs

you have for staying awake; to keep out the light

Dreams collect the darkness of your mind, and let you

bleed; so dim, this moment of resuscitation; so dim

this moment of our fears and wishes granted; so dim

Let the avenue flow with traffic; it isn't the car

which needs a simple strain of corruption to let it

sing; we need more continuity of death; we need it

Highway lines; and your face contorted in pain; it's

every straight and narrow pathway which leads to the

eye of decision; this great particle of faith

Pressed into the past, into the desolation of innocence;

Raised on a whim of nature's forbearance; closed

mediocrity, a child stretched to the limits of denial

You wait with me as the curtains close; and everyone

awake is crying out "hail mary; full of grace" while

we sing in the continuity of desolate stars burned out

Walk with me, upon the charcoal flames; let us scar

our feet within the ashes and cinders of the deceased;

Even as the cold wills its whim beneath us; we'll

endure the flames, even as a tempered death bestows its

sympathy against our frames; God will punish us together

In this persistent pace I follow, there are two rules;

one to maintain balance, and the other to help with the

inoculation of the truth; bare frame let to simmer

Against the scars of the dead; their foreign frames

felt while our escape lies mainly on the wind; our

deaths discovered through the phantasm of our frames

We bleed the night's air, as shadows suffer; we writhe

Completing the course of our delusion; a moment's pause;

while I conjecture truths transpired, and gain a part

of our prerogative arts and aesthetic; bare strips of

text, rolled up thinly across our laps; we heave

The matters of our confusion, we place the bare soil

Against our breasts and retrieve the soul of our

insignia against the base; so much transmogrified

waste letting up; the door is open and the cockroach

sings; while the sweater's fabric is in the ocean

Bleeding out its colors; into the sea, into the blue

Waste of waters' flesh; where demons crave the binding

of our blood with theirs; I open old wounds, and let

them come; in droves, they drive themselves wild

And as the frenzy feasts; you call to me, awake with

Love; but love is but a memory in chains for you,

I have none left to offer; and you can see me purchased

on the shore, feeding off my survivors; while you wait

Only a semblance of the truths between us holds any

water; only a small resemblance of our deaths can sing;

Even as memory awakens within you, you fail to see.

Someone's time, requested for my own measure of sanity;

the clock, the steady storm growing; a slight,

simplistic form coming our from the darkened edges

And she's awake, you know; her eyes are open wide;

but she's not talking, or moving her body; to the

rhythms of our discontentment; her face, a perfect mess

And even as they go; even as we watch them recreate

Houses fall, and the ruins of a people comes to creation

each and every man, woman; and child bleeding from their

abdomen; each and every bit of grace spent already

And God has decided this whole mess would come about

If there is such a God; to transfer mercies and

silhouettes filled with hateful thoughts and murderous

intentions; I receive your beauty, love; but not your

Insistence to faith, and to becoming alive in the eyes

of God; you'll have to try harder convincing me; but

there are pockets of sentience in the garage; you can

Show me more about this professed God of yours another

time; for now, I'm more worried about the avalanche

of death descending; the kitchen falls; knives and

glass, coming down; I worry about you, and your lack

of any knowledge of a common sense; your dreamlessness

Hurry, and we'll complete our revocation of this

fantastic spell; the night will sour, and we will

begin to breathe again; everything will still;

The air will wash out our descriptive sins, and bare

Our souls to one another's light; even as the workload

goes to the shadowed forms of youth; we'll lock our

coven, and shape the hands of fortune for today

Each just movement of your hands, becomes split memory.

We are all slaves to the clock of life; death has become

our hour of withdrawal, and in it all is peace; there is

no musing which holds its faith through the door to here

We are becoming, even now; servants of Hell, there is no

Descent by which we can escape our oath; the draw is

tight, and the curtains close before our eyes; we walk

as though there's something which can restore us

But even after death, there is no claim to incongruity

All we are is what we claim to be; and less, our homes

are our vicinity to sin, we are transposed in fire

Come the dignitary, come the fool; let us bleed to our

rehearsed death; and take unto ourselves the wives and

children of our destiny; betrothed and sacred vows

A while past, and in the forum of our defecation, sing

Purging the vocal madness from our minds; this song of

destiny's betrothal, forged in the darkness of the night

And let the control, and let the forbearance of our

youth bring home the memory of our beloved; and stretch

the reminiscence of our fealty; through open doors

Plain waters, dressed with salt and transgressions

Our minds broken and our bodies healed from every stain

of self-inflicted harm; ready to be broken again, when

pain's remedy must be renewed; I catch the window

As it falls; and shatters against my arms; blood lets

You take away my sins; you take my heart and bleed it;

and as the world collapses through our veins, the

purge of life seems but a sympathy cry.

Resistant to her charms and to her beauty; but I find

the stark resilience of her voice overwhelming;

One small token to change the world; and a silent prayer

A death in the family, one that could have been arranged

while the children played the role of love's magician;

Power through poignant phrasings; redemption at the

hands of God; and through our subtleties of figure and

form, we'll reinstate the closure of our past's metaphor

While you, in earth's corruption swallow the sea;

And as you follow in my footsteps, you'll find the loss

of memory complete; you'll fade into the darkness as

I have, as I want to be; transfixed on lies and death

A moment's notice before the shore becomes a bleeding

ground for all which was desolate and bare; and wanting

nothing less than punishment; we will punish you

When all the earth lies bare, and waiting for the storm

To throw itself against them; I will rise, and take

pity on no one; we've all had a hand to play in this

reactionary tale; there is no forester to foster peace

Love, in its transgressive ways will sing the song of

repentance; but without chains and fire, there is no

hint of our salvation; love is but a wakeup call

I ask, as though I've bled before; I take the flames

And burn the city to the ground; even as I repent,

I place the fires against the stalls, and even up

Your sentence is the call to death; and your fire

Burns through the night and into the morning sun;

there is no rebirth, no ashes turned into a breeding

ground; fit for human consumption and will to power.

Symbolic representation; fornication, a smile and a

breast to encompass love's attire; the decision to stake

our empathy on an affair, to change the world's stain

I remember you in youth; when you were mistaken for an

innocent child; but your birth was the calling of a

demoniac; and as it was, you were the antithesis of

open-hearted; you played the fool as I did, with our

Mouths shut and our faces expressionless; two lovers

Dressed in the refinement of our childhood; I gave you

nothing that I wouldn't give myself; to foolishness

and drink; I watched you grow into the woman that I

loved; I watched you dress yourself in nakedness

And I chose to let you drift upon the wind

Several hours, and several days; years passed us by;

and you colluded with demons as you strayed; and I

gave you mine, to handle them with caution

Blessings bestowed, and curses drawn up against the

timing of the days; your hollow character, your astute

redirection of the wind, as it was given you

You gave my love easily; and took nothing that was

offered; of love. Even as the day sprang forth,

there was no entrance to your cavity; no way to enter

So I closed my mind, although never completely;

To your drift; and made a sentence hollow for your

completion; and though you grew, and I fantasized

About our cross-entanglement; we judged each other,

and gave each other bread and wine to divulge our

sacred lives' breadths and widths; and copied corners

So we could rise against the winds and sever the storm.

Exposed lies; the transmutation of our lives, spent in

shadow; an open casket and a resemblance to our former

selves; still broken with the continuity of angelic

thunder, I watch you as you spread your legs wide open

Blessing this insightful act with the estranged

derangement of a sinner's pulse, I dare you to complete

the sister's scars; in the effigy of God's delusion

Your moistened lips, ready to transmute flesh into gold

And a hollowed thunder, broken worlds and beaten dreams;

the flesh rolls and pins me down; while I lie broken too

Evening comes, as the shutters close; and frighten the

translucent stains into their resemblance of Satan's

pulse; even though I travel through the shadows; I lie

And come about unbroken, as I pass through tainted skies

One small sentence, one single word; and the world

passes into the shadows of an undying sun; we walk

and break the rote signs of semaphors; drunken walls

talk, and break the silence of a broken heart

Questions arise, and in their lessened degree, I drain

their intimacy of hollowed substance; will you dream

with me, in convoluted matters; will you seize the stars

My hope is that you'll recover soon enough, and please

The emptiness living within me; that you'll fulfill

this withered chaos driving me mad, and silence the

foul mood lurking in my shadows; and in my substance

Whether we change, or remain the same; there will be

Motion in this madness; and chaos will subside, even if

only momentarily; it will remain intact for the

remainder; even if merely subdued by the innocence of

Change; love will remain the portion of my undoing.

Systematic change; an open heart ready for inoculation;

we're waiting for the fire to keep us warm; Hell's

redemptive phrase; opened under the pretext of

positioning our worth and our confessions into a sort of

stillborn substance; the reason for our obsession

I birth her body; while you retain her mind

It's all a sort of death, to be transfixed and

overshadowed with the stigma of attachment and of love

And while you cradle her, in the absence of our death;

my hollowed and precious sentiment requires of you

A pure and unintentional affair; laid down in the desk

Upon my notepad; with words, I'll drown you out of me

And capture every sentence of your innocence, desire;

and rebirth. Positioned against the wooden boards;

I'll trap you there; where you cannot escape me

Here, you must endure the pains I've gone through

And only in words will I begin my final descent into

death's great chasm; complete my picture, and overhear

My dissonant intentions; the great friction I will cause

between our works; I'll give you the stars and the night

Only if you will hear my voice pressed in against your

ear; even then, I want to watch you writhing; I want

to see your face alight with fear; an imposing system

of dreams and ill intention; a factory of death

My caustic chasm; and the sentiment of whole demise;

I'll walk you through the face of death, and let you

decide; whether you would have it all, the forbidden

fruit of our weathered substance; desire's luck

Or if you would choose to face the wrath of God.

She is the system of my enticement; the only drop of

Heaven which I have tasted, she climbs the cavern of my

intoxicated breath; and steals derisive moments from the

depths of my inebriation; she is my folly of ill

intention, and while I breathe, there is no other form

For lack of death, I see her shadow and regret my denial

I open my lengths to her, but there is already a

distance between our thoughts; there is no dissonant

summer to come between us; merely hours spent on writing

falsities and stringing her along, I am the one to blame

A casual encounter gone wrong; the whole existence

Of my inebriation has torn our love in two, the

intoxified resemblance of a lover's quarrel; a dissonant

collection of spheres, each hand-picked for its purpose

I want to talk; I want to open up a series of

communications; I want to dress the door with ivy and

pearls; in hopes she'll one day walk through

And even as the door shuts, I retire to a place

forbidden; I sink into my deepest sins, and purge the

night from my awakened state; I drift into a fantasy

And then my body writhes in ecstasy; and then I come.

Opened to the eternal damnation, open wide my door

And let those enter who may, even after the shutters

close; let them come into my house, for I have broken

my body; and let the mind devour its only intention

Wild madness, and a hint of sanity, a grain of salt

Spent upon the openness of my becoming; my fornication,

my best observation of the earth, spent in wild madness.

Enter your location:

And in this feeding frenzy, I have lost all sense of

right and wrong; in this ecstasy of lust's renewal,

every motion of my world has been betrayed by raw

sensation; and I would rather die than give this up

Insanity's charge, and the frustration it has caused me,

In open denial of sins; weathered skins of bestiality,

the conclave's distant star, running open on the winds;

my destination, unknown; and so I open up the scars

And bleed myself of this illustrious denial of self

My sacrifice, and my undoing; to reach your home, and to

deny myself of your touch; and your breath beneath me;

I wonder what the evening will bring, whether raw

intoxication of form; or lengthy desires, purged through

a sacrament of death; I'll walk through the ancient

tombs, looking for you; in your evening gown

Rest, and I will rise above you; take you against my

body and press into your flesh; rise, and I will receive

you; and let you come into this shelter I have woven

There is no synonymous virtue that can keep us apart

I've chosen hands that stick to you; and my breasts

lay firmly in your grip, even after the stars recede,

There will be time for us to undo the things we've said;

Open your mouth, and receive my words

Even as the cock crows, so my words extend into your

womb; and there, breathe fire and ecstasy.

An occasion for setting simplicity into its grave;

and bringing chaos out into the collective mind; for

purging ourselves of our retained retrospective cause

and making love between the portions of our forced

antithesis; we'll bring the head into alignment with

the heart, and let desire ruin us; feed the hand

That bleeds; and as I recall, there is no mixture of

wine and blood to swallow; there's only the foul moon

to chant our hymns to; so while we dream of desperation,

Love's abolished form comes looming into the pasture

Where we drink, and sexualize our synthetic skins;

Where we purge our demons, and react to the full moon's

rising; and where we recall our fantasies, and bleed

ourselves of this restrictive isolationary substance

I hold your hand, and remind myself there's no warm

blood to interact with my exorcised demons; there's no

confession of sins to keep my head calm through the

whole of this resistant thread; and as I draw my blade

across my thigh, I level up my head and cry for your

Kiss; the worth of your lips, enacted on my own

Underneath it all, I'm howling to the moon; and in its

full blossom, it stings; even after poisoning myself

Your friction and my face contorted, telling lies

What phantasm are you, my grace and my redemption;

but while I bleed, and while I react to your impatient

glare; I recede into the depths of a hollow sun

Wholly known for its risen gods; their ancient myth

And I know you are what you appear; you are one of them;

a goddess of beauty and deliverance; here to test my

time; here to make love to my resonance; a thing sublime

And forcing me to recognize your face among them.

Your texture, the skin's anointed stain; I derive your

indulgence and your perceptions to this new reality;

And with your life in stasis, each sentiment of our

religion burns; as we come in to each other; corrupted

And while I play, the momentary stitch of time consumes

Each pattern of our molested youth portrayed upon the

hourglass' drift; I hold you close, but you forget my

hands and don't forgive my touch; as I drift closer,

You spew my love.

And each open-ended stance of our religion's mist,

portrayed how beauty ends; I scream as you renew the

winds and sentence the hours to their dusty end

One moment left, one stain obscured through bleeding

And isn't it enough to paint the sky red; isn't it

what we've longed for; to end in pain and misery with

our consumption; to let apparel bleed red, and the mouth

of Satan's power be unfettered; to challenge youth's

innocence and corrupt the minds of little girls

So far, there's a time and a place for holding hands

And it isn't here, among the cradles of babes and

infants; their quality of corruption completed within

the hour; I find days a better source of anticipation

Leave them holding onto their substance of fear

And while I wait, while I dry my eyes of inconsistency;

you poison the mind with retribution, and intoxication

When the fern blows; there will I be, waiting for you

But here, in this instantaneous surrender, I catch you.

As slow destruction comes; and as the waves wash over

us, and leave within our stomachs, a pit of despair;

preserved silence waits for me, and for your dressed

rehearsal; come quiet, and come along; dress for the

calm bursting of the winds, and as you fear, so I

Will make patience something of our past; to persevere;

to change the reaction necessary for our implicit

sentence; we'll rearrange our dinner set; and speak

Of lonely nights, pressed against the fetters of our

surroundings; chained to angels, and their dance of

death; our lonely nights pressing in upon our dreams

Recover our madness, and let the world tear

A glimpse of some small portion of our descent; our

ancestral call to open the gates to Hell; and let the

gods ascend in their full worth to humanity

Intoxicate me, with your evanescent sins; grope me

with your smile, and let the wind play its role upon

my hair; dance with me for one small hour, while they

play our song of innocence's corruption; and stain

The sheets with me, our tattered substance's abuse

A full collection, an anthology to the hopeless strain

of identity; I'll remind you what you sounded like on

that bitter day beneath the unholy winds; where, in our

shelter we played the roles of demons, portrayed dead

youth and dissonant corruptive walks of life

I beckon you to the table, to watch me portray God

With all consistency of prayer and my emotion; a

heavenly mother; dressed in white; eating the sins of

the dead; and tasting their juices; one rind gone.

I wake into your arms; and you pull me closer, even as

my heart finds its bearings; I am torn apart, because

The mind plays tricks and lessens this furious feast

Of unspoken reality; I find you relaxed, as if the

syndrome hasn't spoken through your blood; the detriment

of my lonely hold, as if the fire had begotten a child

And through my reason, it comes to bear that you never

really anticipated my love; even after I spoke with you

of how I'd been corrupted by your blood; and the things

you spoke to me had sentenced my heart to disaster

Love's fair game; the only way to play is to let go

And I know there's more to you than what you've offered;

I see the signs, and watch reality's closure; you've

spent your worth on fire and inebriation of the senses

While I, in fury, watch

Open the doors to my obsession; let me bear your blood,

and let the world close in around me; featuring your

smooth skin and translucent eyes; the gleam of one soft

smile; while I choose to bear the remainder of our love

Lost in my transgression; I climb the way to your

affections; and transverse myself in metaphysical

reality; I watch the planets shift; the stars remove our

names; and the ascension of the devil from the pit

Even as the whole of death resumes its incantation

I require of you a signature; reminding me death has

come; and we'll let the insignia of saints' design

hold water; let you close your peace with God

While I wrap myself in Satan's arms, delusional; in

anticipation of your melody, and your skin pressed

against my own, in a saturated mess of lust.

My renewal, at the cost of your love; my enduring heart,

greets you with a synthetic stare; there's no more room

for fantasy within this chained reality; come home

And seize this intoxicating smell I've breathed; receive

This portion of my lust, strained out with the motion

of desire's sin; when you want to take your portion,

I will gladly offer you my sensibilities; flushed

drops of reason mixed into your madness; a shame

There is no other way to hold you, dear; no pressure

points to touch and no surrendering our love's last

glance; I give you everything you desire in a bottle

Drawn closed and emptied

So purge the world of your contamination; dress yourself

in flames, and worry not; this seat holds the both of us

As our last stain removes ourselves from the body

So do I care what comes from this retainer for the mind;

I press you in against me, and create a pocket for our

destiny's failed flight; and as you come, I cry with

sleepy eyes the tears for the fallen, and the damned

In our statutory sin, I come as one surrendering

To the renewal of God's delighted purpose and His cause,

the grating hour, spent upon our lessons; the holy

moment's dream replaced with empathy; our season begun

Wash you now the sensations of the skin, the flesh's

delight; for pains were taken to scour away the eyes

from their resistant flurry of small shapes

Inside, I draw you nearer than before; and you come.

These severed stars complete my sacred circle; and while

I choose to renew my rites; I stay with ivory as my

substance; and stick to bitter friendships; they may be

woven into the skin, to drown my faith in friends

For this, I reason; will be madness in the end

Your rhyme to my apparel; and my apparent self-rebuke;

and while you drain me of my lust, we'll please each

other beneath a dissonant moon; and collapse silence

Our fornication's end, resolves in misery and contempt;

But while I'm here; while I'm making rounds within the

compass of my mind, I'll blow the trumpet and call out

distant song unto the edges of the earth; the four

quarters; distant liars' slaves; so they may feed

Your song means the world to me now, keep it on the fire

And as we motion for the remainder of our sins'

collection; and draw our distant fears from their

dissolved location; I'll bend light for you

And chain the recognition of our deaths against the mire

Where you can resolve to keep your only child; her

effigy planted on top of the pyre, so we may burn her

into silence once again; the bleeding frame of her skin

What locusts bring, when the world comes to an end

A dissonant sore, corrupt with vague malfunction;

two-tonal death, and a state of sin; for our collection;

Resonating fires burning brightly with intoxicating

scent; the scant remainder of our livelihood, planted

neatly against the pyre's edge; so we may burn our own

And unto death, may bleed the fire into non-existence.

Lost in shadow; approaching dreams, where worlds collide

And into substance, I rest my soul; in the shallow mess

of abstinence I drink my last drop of sexual tension

You move me into the stain of my remaining innocence;

the death of my infatuation with you; where I loosen my

bonds, and ring my teeth around your wrist; and bite

Substance makes everything clearer; the tang of blood

And my submission ends; and yours has only just begun;

I'll tame you and purge out your rebellion; hang you

on the post above our door; and you'll breathe slowly

As I accumulate your toxic air; and drink it in;

How long does it last, this breath; before the final

collapse of sin; one or two days, or a lifetime of

Receiving the death and stains of low remarks made

While the shallows of the sea remain untouched; I wade

through your effigy; made of sand and silken thread

Enticing as it is; it is for ruination, of the body

and the flesh; I will dissolve you in flames, and let

the pain lick your wounds while you reject my sentence;

Drums will blast through your holy frame; rendering

your body useless; and you'll freeze, and you'll wish

for death to come already before the end of it;

I can see you now, holding onto thunder as if it were

a useful string; I'll purge you of everything you desire

And make a mockery of you; before the throne of God;

We'll exchange roles; for the purposes of dissonant love

About our last existence's smile, when it has come about

All things reflected through an ornate lens; all our

world reflected in the transcripts of the mire, and

when you confess; to these crimes, and hold your

decency; we'll forget, and we'll forgive the ocean's

spitting crown of sea salt; crested waves, and death

When the last call was settled, and the troopers carried

on their backs a burnished golden plate; similar in

resemblance to your own; these crossed wires and junky

manuscripts torn thin through restless beating of the

Heart; if I could collude and have them all reduced to

synthetic stains, I would; I'd place the heart of the

irresolute abductions in a state of perpetual sin;

But even as they grow, and exchange their heartfelt

glares and grimaces; I see something changed within

the waters here; some new birth begotten

Do you ever listen to the waves, as they crash;

That magnetic pulse of sound, it enlightens me; it

drives me under and beneath the threads of consciousness

Herd her away; make it easy on the both of us, reduce

our worlds to stretches of plain intoxication and mirth

Resonant desires born thickly in a pot of fornication

And let her come. Don't leave back the blessed blood;

when her hour is drawn, and the tightness of our world

crushes in; let her dance upon my frame, and sing her

silhouetted tune; and live up to all my expectations

Of beauty, and passion; and desire.

I saw your reflection through the covered glass;

and as the world bent the rays of light, I focused on

your face, and on your eyes; through tragedy you made

me smile; and through the thickness of your skin

I felt the earth shatter; into pieces whirling through

my mind; the friction of my necessary longing, and my

Demise; all that came before will undo itself in the end

While we make circuits through this hell, and redesign

our faith; what matters isn't the whole of our creation,

It is the blind undoing of our lives in our surrender

So much hesitation in this world; there's so much

dissonant shade of form, blindly calling us to shelter

the pieces of the whole; and we cannot begin to bear

Our digressions into sin; even as we are, the gods know

Let's create a gap; to stop the blood from rushing out

and let's recreate our purpose, so we can handle all

our delicate parts as they begin to unwind themselves

Even I know, there is no hope for us in the hereafter

And as our shadows fade, as life begins to sink away,

I can see the distance in your eyes; the undoing magick

And there's no moment of our company which will survive

These troubles of torment, and of pain; we'll watch

as the world begins to tear apart; at its seams, the

edges of the mire giving birth to our insanity

And as we shake, and as the earth shudders; in falling

Let's make a bed between us; and take apart sanity's

belonging; we'll drive out demons and angels and leave

only the earth as comfort; only the solid mould of death

I'll watch as your death consumes you, and I'll scatter

your dust to the winds; even as your sentence is pressed

Into the holy containers; I'll watch you leave by the

shadows' road, into the deep descent where to the fallen

Go; and with your stains still left upon the pages of

our history books, and while your death marches you

out of my continuum; I'll mourn your passage

And when the violence of this storm has passed; and

your memory is but a vacant dream, denial purging all

facets of your ecstasy's entertainments; I won't wail

I'll dress myself in gold; and capitalize on faith

Send out my vacant stars, to cover ground on a softly

fallen snow; and wish you distant heartache and pain

Redemption passes as a small phrase, set in stone

And while you fall, I wonder again just how your passage

has changed you; what has death done to the girl I used

to know; what are her new markings in the soul

But there's no room for rebirth among the fallen;

Their tombs are empty, and their violence sings of false

gods and deadly angels; a triumph of small parts and a

scourge to the tapestry of love's regrets

One small step; broken up into fragments of time

As it presses on into the infinity of the continuum;

you are dressed in black; and I can hear you singing

in the night, beside my bed; wondering when I will

Forgive you of the pain you left me to bear.

We fall; through utter silence, and through death; into

the long stretch of night's containment, and as we fade

Into the shadows of another life, this death continues

And the facets of our breath, as it deconstructs; keep

me hanging on the edge of fear, and my relief is purely

derived through the motions of an incandescent sphere

Not the sun or the moon; but some mysterious globe

Suffering me my soul; and through its relief, I can see

the end of blasphemy, the death of fire's blaze burning

And it so happens that the destruction of the earth

into fire and water's resurrection; the swollen stilts

that hold the whole of everything in motion;

Centers on the recreation of our selves, through sins'

resolve; and I will take part in the ascension when I

come; and I will eat the sacred bread; and drink

And let the powers that be to destine me for the

resolution of an enchanted world; far from here

Not heaven, or hell; but some other quality of life

These are the incandescents; these small spheres;

burning slowly through the ice-cold stretch of space

Other suns

So let me localize my death, and let me sing the hymns

to our resident gods; so the motion of the spheres

be synchronized with youth; and in my attire, I'll

become another drowned out voice; holding out for the

Becoming of a world trapped in water; a fissure

In the sea; and let the oceans wash over me, for the

recession of the soul into its new form, the symphony

of pure imagination; let out for the play.

Without our scars, there would be no passage for us;

down into the hells beneath this earth, without our

longings giving way to sin; there would be no obsession

streaming from reality's containment; there would be no

Death; to mark our graves by

Here, in the shadows of myself; I give you everything,

painted as a fraction of my soul; and as the dust

collects upon the mirror; I can't show you my resolve

Faced with death's perception; embracing fire's

complimentary scars; I give you my life, entangled

On a thread of destiny, prescribed and set aflame

Two ignited paths, one for the cemetery's construction;

another spent on the indecency of our immortal act

While we were dressed in ribbons of flame, perceiving

the sun's reflection in our eyes; the purity of

blindness and the insignia of the goddess of the sun

I melt and measure the restitution of our desires

And find each of our denied revelations prescribed

upon the landing of this stone sent from the sky

Meteor, marked with the inscribed perfection of our

names; dressed in solid metals and in melting ice

Our pitch-black redemption, our sacred spaces

Touched with golden hands and silver fingers; blessed

by the goddess of the night; as we walk, the caves

collapse; and we're left

Scraping through dark ruins, seeking a way.

As the angels fly; so is our descent, and our

realization that nothing will return to its former

luster; there was a season for ourselves, and for the

chained melodies that have transpired; even after all

has gone awry; I give you everything I have of flesh

One last moment to gather in yourself and your abundance

A pursuit of financial insecurity; of dreams unlocked;

of chance, simplified through faith and through denial

Hopes filled with lackluster scores of dead faith

And the reduction into formless space, risen on the wind

Point me to the right direction, the incorporation of

our seething tests of faith; reduce me to my scars

And I will bleed for you, my holy angel; I'll cut myself

And spew my love across the floor; and set my veins

on fire; with a candle's wax, I'll drip one sentence

after another and set them into skin; to hold my faith

Sacred systems raise our flag; and the ascension of our

death requires nothing else, we'll make bread and bake

it through with my blood; and test the innocence of sin

Love me, and I will regain some synonyms to honor you

While this lust lingers in my throat, and the cold

death of winter resolves into a flurry of pain

Once we've traveled through to our destination, I'll

unlock the gates to death, and to hell; and cause

disruption in the pit; we'll open up our secret scores

And let the fallen rise.

Where was our marking placed; that central bit of doubt;

inscribed upon the stars' bright luminescence; the

carrier of our disease; we placed it in our hearts

And let the coolness of breath swallow our minds

Under and beneath the waves, we swallow the sea; and

make intoxicating gestures to each other; we waive

our fortune's last obscure intelligence, and call

To other shores; to distant kingdoms; less pure

And follow the breadth of our desires; into death,

and raise the covenant's pure boundaries; I wait

For you, and the curtains close our space; and time's

complaint becomes obscured by reason; insanity's grace

taken through the everlasting night, and given up

What bath we sing in; and what tune we hollow out

Within our voice; a shadow of a flame, dressed in silk;

and obscured by the measure of the stars; in their

brightly painted hollows; you and I remain untouched

By the drunkenness of humanity; but while we wait, we

derive the sympathy of stars combined with their

evanescent light; a pure touch of a hollowed strain

Even as the curtains close, and all remembrance gained

has passed into the death of luck's silhouette; scraped

And bleeding, while death lies waiting in the shadows

Good fortune brings a bath of ecstasy into our home;

but there is no waiting of the will to train our death

to bring ourselves from gravity's mistakes;

Only love's conquest in the caves; giving birth to our

bodies' remains can bring about the substance we've

desired through our miseries' mistakes.

With hypnotic pressure feeding our scars, and the

resolute retirement of our breath; we can see the stars

in their former splendor; before the air corrupted them

And in our birth; the ring of fire resolves, leaving us

Dry, and destitute; a field of hopeless dreams devouring

our senses; the incomplete difference between our selves

Whole and dissolved in a sea of ash; pieces scattered

We are free from the stains of migratory birds; we are

united with the sea in a transparent silk redemption

An ordinary flight from life's decay and the indecency

Of sin; I quiet your soul in this iridescent sea; and

place my hands upon your mouth; let the summer descend

into madness; and let the fall begin its final rebirth

One God; and one transgression to save us all

Even after the world completes its course, and the

shimmering of the stars ceases; there will be a fit

of magick to seal our destiny; to transmute the powers

of the sea into tranquility; to let the earth rest

And while we dip our feet into this madness of

corruption, I'll show you the stars, as they were bent;

And hasten your dreams through my exotic magicks

Define the soul of destiny that awaits us; to make

tragic marks upon your grave, and upon my flesh

And bathe within the deeper waters of this transparent

sea; we'll break the skin of the water, and feed below

the surface; on ice and shadow, on death and decay

And we'll break the heavens open, and feed on destiny.

As shadows fall, and lust abides by what has been

described; of the false deaths and open dreams; and

heresies, I begin my watch as the doors shut

In hopes of my remainder's skin coming out unscathed

When death takes me; an honor woven into the corpse

of some unidentified burden; the ghost of my past

left unmarked; beyond the grave lies her parasitic

sound, reenacting the crowning of our lord

While in the baser parts of my denied empathy; there

I curse the name of God; and send my empty promises;

As mine were made, so they were given; death lingers

Like a false ornamentation; leaving nothing but a hollow

reminder of who we are; and for me, in my glass body

Breathing in the sun and my exposure;

A quick death will hold me incomplete, as the body is

stained by the ingestion of scars and a plain

resemblance of the yard, broken and obscured

Point into the western lands; there you'll find me

Trapped between pages of our holy text; written in

the resurrection of our souls, my whole survival

planned as God's impermanent dissolve; a host of bodies

Fleshed out with the sun; as I walk this sentimental

wasteland; and cheer myself up as the poisons sting

I'll hold your hand, as you come; and wait with you

An hour before we're wisped away; into fog and ashes;

into the dust of our remainder, and into gold; that

we may be of value in the war between the gods.

The desolation of my mind, as ashes fall and settle;

a small container set for keeping the remains; and I

continue to escort the symphony of death through my

divide; slowly consuming thought and matter to the

unresponsive gazing into the sun; my hopeless doubt

As it pertains to magick and to the utterance of sin

Hopeless dreams awaken, and through their symbolic form,

I find the passage to recovered lists, made with marks;

obscure representations of isolated drifts of magick

While tomorrow sings with resolution, today remains a

mark of desolation and erotic substance, cured by fire;

And as the passage of time revolves around the distance

to the sun, our glare contains the sustenance to live

by; the false shadows and their evanescent drip

My only reason for giving into this accursed madness

The mark, and our dress; rehearsed through fire in the

nudity of self-contamination; our rising plea for death

Once our home has been obtained, there is a silence

In the forms of our angelic host; and they recede into

the stretch of death, where one false motion could

obscure the world; and into death they dive, full force

My imagination suffers; and as my reason retracts

I find contamination in my passion; a small resolution

to live by; and I face madness in a contemporary span

Only a lone and singular form remains untainted;

The muse, and her angelic song.

Who took away my sanity; and what was left of me, when

all the reason faded from my mind; death's hold

overtook my place, and I was locked away; against my

will, stationed at the edges of my birth and death;

Contemplating our intentions, and my renewal

A first-born seizure encapsulated in a fist of pain;

my motions obscured by the rain; and the ascension of

fire; as the birth was engraved within the stars

You'll find my body torn apart, by wolves or their

resemblance; feasting demons sent out in the dark

And gravity corrupts my flesh with draining blood;

Each piece of my identity systematically rearranged;

through vacant birth, and the receding sun

Even as honor redeems you; I cannot find my gun; I've no

intention of letting go the sun, and its shallow skin

Poisonous desire sinks into me, and as I reveal my

loneliness; as I undress myself, and show myself

Exposed to the brightness of the sun;

There is a veil which yet remains between us; an

existent path which cannot be revealed; it is the

vacancy of death; and my existence after plunging

Into the sea of my transgressions;

What flame will unravel the truth of everything,

and what encompassing arms will grasp the demons of

my sleep; even after the earth expels me, there will

be a simile of my own undenied existence, waiting.

White writing on the walls; a sentence to my birth,

and the remainder of my living; a secret science born

of forgotten ancient symbols, marked in blood

I try to recognize the patterns; try to reveal the

hidden meanings in their system of release; I drive

my nails through it; in frustration, false contemplation

Whatever their meaning, it is lost on me; and I will

Die as one who has not unlocked the power of the gods;

their magick, and their forbidden dreams, the details

Of a lost society; charged with hidden knowledge

And as I corrupt these sacred forms, with obscurity

through partial form; lacking their original sin

What demeaning art, to sacrifice a secret cult of

denizens to their death eternal; for the simplicity

of broken codes and cracked revelation; a dust

In form and science's despair, I can't see through

You break me from my desperation, and my calling; for

simpler sins; to hasten forth desire's flushed magick;

The redemption through lust's alternative, passion's

subjective cause; we'll illustrate these characters

Through the bending and warping of our bodies;

reactionary prose through the binding of flesh

And as your statement shows, there will be no backing

out of forms laid down through our unholy disease

Merely the false statements made, our eternal lies

Through a chaos of substance abuse and sexual desire.

Desire's science, and the birth of another form of sin;

our entropy giving in to madness, and the destruction

of a star; while I bind you in the fashion of our gods

And suffer you no light to enter; total darkness

Enveloping your form, the right amount of madness;

constituting a rebellious death, and while you sing

to purge the night's ensemble from its place;

I cradle you softly with my embrace, and pull you under

Beneath the sea's confines; to drown your voice out;

and make you be glad for a moment's contemplation

Before your own light has been captured by the flood;

In it, you'll drown directly in the sea; and suffer

for a moment's span; while the round circles spin

across its surface; rings of death, rings of the devout

You'll understand my mention when the shadows fold

And death triumphs over you; but here in the lasting

instant of your sanity; with all the world but a shadow

and a sin; to bind you ever closer to the night

The guiding stars bleed; and wash away your sins;

Insanity writhes in their place, and cuts you open;

while I stand back and watch the ending of this emotive

start; the dance between you and the devil, as you

make fit your soul for hell's abode; and writhe within

your skin, seeking the silence of life's momentary

breath; to scan the stars that you can't see; for signs

Come the night and enter in the severe darkness

And destiny's plate divided against you; for your sorrow

In this infinity of form, I find no comfort; there's

none to save me from the desolation I have endured;

and hardship's inquiry passes all judgments to the end

Where every motion of my mouth becomes my magick

And the temple's blind to the frustrations which I

carry; each particle of faith has drowned my will

And the seizures of my discrete salvation only enter

here; between the pages of our holy tome; not between

mouths; not with lust and passion to provoke

I crave the sympathy of angels; to usher in my dark

descent, and bring me into madness and corruption

Even there; the will is sleeping, and there is no want

Now that I've survived the principle of endurance,

come what may to drown me out of darkness and into the

false ascent of love's embrace; there is no howling

Seen within the night's right arm; there's no

accompaniment; to test faith's resolve, only a dead sea

With open arms and a harness to keep me clean

Blind faith, and its enduring substance mixed with

matter; a chosen path, without the recognition of sin

A bleeding arm, cut from the beginning of time

There is no hope of salvation here; in this dead water;

it's likened to the grip of an enemy, without proper

bonds to keep me held; just a slight struggle to be free

But freedom here is death, and the ramblings of a child.

As the incorporation of a gesture too obscure for modern

texts; the meaning resolves in its final solution;

I take your hand into my own, and drive a nail through

This, for the simplicity of sin; and this for the power

we'll abuse; and I'll abuse you well. Darken the night

And let the clouds rain down their sympathy for you

It isn't every day you see the fire building up with

shadows overtaking every inch of our depraved reality

Flesh and mud, both broken; and both sealed against

the elements with flames; I hold up to you my only

token of a gesture sentenced to the death by my insanity

The righteous hold us up in concert; as we regain

A sense of strength through our remedy; and our omission

dealt with disregard to the small winds approaching our

center; love is at the one hand; while evil takes the

collection of the rest; moistened motion of detrimental

Sin

It's all percussive; it's all salvation through our

rhythmic sphere; there is no God, and no unearthly form

To take us under and beneath; it's all reminiscent

scouring of the earth, looking for fire and magick

But in this heat, the only ghost whose resurrection

will be named as light and pure; is the resurrection

Of death; in its whole, unbroken science patched with

sin.

Distance from you betrays the infinite form of self;

imagination's cushion on which I bring the world to bear;

through my own will of intention; the thrift of sequence

As ill repairs make the semblance of your skin entangled

I find in you something new, and something wilder than

I've met; and with your will intact; I'll vent my own

frustrations; and my sexual observations against your

skin; draw tight the strings, and contemplate their

function; we'll make our bed unique in the catalog of

desire's infliction; separate from our pain

Each and every inch of you, framed by my illusion

A synthetic score of dark desires; suffering through

deep imaginative dreams; the chaos of our world,

burning as it had been when we were conceived

Every hour a thick mess of elusive confessions

I'll mark you with the death of my entanglement; the

lengthy frame of your illusion spun out against my

perfected shape, my delusional self; written in the

stars, and spun with the rite of derived sins

Reveal yourself through the shades of your apparel

Walk neatly as you spurn substance and give form matter;

renew my faith in God; as you walk before my eyes,

confessing sins I've placed against you in my

imagination; the wildest parts bled through as lust

devours and sentences my death; the face of sin extended

Rebuke the system of the winds; and let the air collect

And I will harbor fantasies of you; dressed and pure

and ravaged by my heart's ill-intent; I'll make you

drink your own blood as you watch me reflect my form

within you, as you allow the confession of my sins.

Information's swollen body; and the lips that drink it

in; my thirst and my conception of your breasts; tilted

with the spread from my recovery; I ache for your touch

As fathers go; he was the bright hand that swept the

lawn and carried in the lifeless death of youth's

obstructive form; an infinity of lies, rejected

And as we followed our disconcerting struggle for

Perfection's dissonant redemption; as our lives were

sheltered beneath the hollow in the hillside;

I craved your broken form, the relaxation of your frame

And what could lie between us in the night; four

hollows filled with air; and the deep breaths which

claimed your sentence from the winds; our shining star

What emerged, a dream without aspirations; a false

death, buried beneath the sands of time's allowance;

And murder became the magick heart; and your betrayal

Touched my skin with plague, and with denial; fantasy's

interjection; I prayed, without curtains to hide my

tears; myself, revealed through majesty and tested;

I tear myself away, from frustration; and from the

casualty of death; I will make my own resolution

And you will bear my existence; and you will be bereft

of me in the end, but in this life, I'll make you

suffer me; you'll crave what I have with passion's

blade cutting into you; while I inject the poison

Death will come first, and then the blade; your body's

Thirst for it, and the life will ebb away; drinking

slowly and holding onto my dissolved substance;

You'll wake to the water of my life, drained from me.

I wait for your reflection to expose me; to lay bare

my lack of dignity; and my shame, to arouse my flesh;

So that through fire, we may be united as one, braised

In the corporeal sense; consumed through each other's

passion; and spent, while lust agrees with formation

of our extended selves; the bodies' lack of density

As if our whole being had been consumed by these fires

And an angel of destiny's purpose had resounded the

bell which tolls for the dead, I will wait for hearing;

Poison drips through the lengthy flow of the sea

Bearing our existence, and our death; two sides to

every coin; and ours is open-ended; the catch within

our breath, and we wait for the consumption

You lack the filtering schism of our transmission,

And bodies bruised, and wrestling for a purchase;

my life in ruins, as I nest myself against the cold

walls; seeking any breath of life to hold onto

And death becomes another focus of my fantasy

Two dissonant threads of corruption, two unholy depths

to sink into; while the waiting is near, there's only

one hour to contemplate the ghosts of sin

One moment to hand over our insipid lengths

So let's seize destiny's favor, and hold onto every

moment since our birth; and cleanse our last hour

Sin against God; for one last moment's breath and die;

Apostles of the night, and saints of the last hour

of our deception.

When our wills were incomplete, before the sun began

its final descent upon men; before the life gave out,

and all our science fell into the wrong hands,

I was clear in my retaining scars; I gave you no hope,

No reason to react through my death; and only there

was a moment's curse to sway our judgment's call

back into the silence of the vicinity of death

As I see, the plains have all been taken; as I project

myself into your earthly realm, there is a confidence

and a collision of the senses; it's all to fear this

death's descendants; all for forgivenesses angles;

All across the bodies of the beaten, there are lies;

Seductions, defecation passed through the night's

chambers into this spot of sin's degenerations;

Soiled linens and selfish games, the drying of the beach

Summer's diluted form, still celebrated; still passed

down through the generations for a score, an entangled

mess of half-breathing; half dead degenerates make their

short-circuit through this large ensemble of sin

We recollect the finer points of their incineration,

Speaking in devils' tongues, and speaking through their

incantations; rising flames, and burning flesh and blood

Beside me, beside you; there lies a causeway to the mire

Its purchase begins with the entertainment of the senses

and degenerates into a laughing fit of hysteria;

You've wanted me to pass this one last test of virginity

And I close my eyes; and sit, within the bottom of the

boat; sinking, without restraints; without another way

In the center of the sea.

The stripped silence awaits my touch, as it grows; into

a dark manifestation of my unconscious mind; and blurs

all the subjective floss of my renewal, into a dark

manifestation; and so it seems there is little left

of hope to play into the hands of my regression

Wholly purged, through sins' entanglements; we walk

Through the death of my unconscious mind, into the

meter of an untimely portion of our range; I draw the

flask open, and retain my sins through a dealing with

the dark; and plunge myself into an effigy of my own

making, even after these reticent comparisons; I march

Down through ash and fire, pared into simplicity

While the strings grow silent all the more, and Heaven's

retainers draw a ring of fire before my feet; a crescent

Fire of death and torment, which I cannot escape

But binding my own secrets, and the song of the dead;

I holler out my name into the burning white flames

of death, and drink my own perdition

Alone, at cost of my affections to you; I seize the

intimacy I've feared; and draw in your breath, and

your accompaniment; I drink the fattened milk, and herd

the singing through our cage; into our passion's end

Here, with marked anticipation; breathing the ecstasy

of our endowed religion; I falter, and I fade

Even as ecstasy comes easy, I cannot build the brighter

parts of light, to make it easy to hold onto you

And as the wind wanes; as the seasons drift from fire

into water's end, and we are drowning in the middle

of an ocean; estranged from any signs of civilization

I draw your breath into mine, and let the limp body

of your form; remain in the sea, drifting in death.

I sit, in the contamination of my only child's death;

waiting for the cruelty of the earth to end, waiting

in vain for the confession of a sin from the Almighty

And through His unborn denizens, dug out from the waste

Of an early morning's breath; there is a moment of

silence, and of completion; as three candles' flames

Reach the pinnacle of death's final ascension

And we place wreaths around these youths, to scar them;

fire, water; and air, the three homogeneous substances

Born from the ashes of the dead, these daughters

Each with their own measure of time's descent; into

a sepulcher of dreams denied and plain white light;

Bathing in the fires meant for the damned; we wash away

These sins in our exterior pardon; and build a temple

to the gods of the north, in their cool climate where

we find ourselves dissolved in death's deliverance

Even after the dreaming ends; I find it hard to breathe

My mouth is awash with her ashes, and the cinders of

her bones; the unmarked organs and the vicinity of her

heart; all spent in ash; I cannot breathe without her

voice bleeding through my mind; I cannot surface for air

Let the waters come and wash away this death

So I may retreat into the pools of innocence, and wash

away my own spit of death; cleansed and purified.

I will drain the kingdom of its purpose; and I will

freeze the ashes of the unborn children of the dead.

A welcomed sign of resurrection, the bliss folded

through each page as it unravels; contemporary span

of sexual desire; expunged; I hold a candle out, to see

The walls of this enclosure, as I come to pieces, broken

While the cave collapses; I see angels spinning in the

darkness, and I see the form of God; through a

resurrection of quiet oaths and simplistic greed

Even after you see me here, alone in the darkness of my

dream, I cannot allow your touch; your fallen grace

to enter me; I will hold this candle through the

most desolate parts of the night, and picture your

Angelic face, seized with fear and an isolation's death

Somewhere in this chaos between worlds, there is comfort

and somewhere between our silent frames, there is a

peace that echoes slowly in the dark; I will find you

Thirsty for my touch, and I will grant you a slow

surrender to my gaze; each breath as we receive each

other's still form; each taste of death as it's received

Marks our bed of corruption, as we regain the love

We lost within the fires of a contemptuous migraine;

before the world was said to embody the distance of our

Christ; while we had waited for another breath to take

us beneath the fullness of a diamond moon;

Your lips, brushed against the skin; and your taste

This settlement of desire; the great trust between us;

Folded into ashes and sin; the moment's madness

woven through our skins, and lasting no more

than an hour's infinite stretch, before the dawn.

A sign from the gods; that one may be reflected through

their sins, and as the days grow colder; I reject this

stance humanity has taken; in accordance with my will

I bring the temple to its knees; and begging, there

Dissolve myself of any preconditioned stain, there is no

repentance here, for the forgiveness of sin; all will

be required as blood and ash, and stone

What will become of the vicinity of night, what of ash

Believe, and there's a sentence for your troubles,

the whole hand; backed upon your brow, let loose in

dreams and consequence; I do believe in the angular

substances of the gods, and their refusal to enter

There was a place and time for purpose, a semaphor

for speech; before the clock let loose its coming

Open the handle and speak your mind, they are listening

Power and glory come unrequited; through the majesty

of the stars, they bleed through the sea and into

death's recovery; where the angels sing their hymns

Into the ocean's chamber; beneath the rolling waves

All was quiet, and all contained her breath; when she

was born as simpler fragrance; the timeline held,

and the detriment to the stars shone brightly

A simple folk, with simplistic melodies; our chants

Remain a page upon their skin; and through the script

of gods, we watch them fall; and through the melody

of the old gods; they watch their world crumble.

Our acquaintances; dressed in gowns of burning fire,

while the ash bleeds in the pool, and our rejection

carries weight within the dissonance of dreams

I rock you back and forth, like you're a child

Sending the position of the stars across your face,

and while you wait through summer's quiet embrace;

autumn calls; the religion of our next erasure

Point into the wind; and I will regain the opposite of

prayer; we'll seek our solitude, we'll regain our quiet

composure while we seek God's scripture in this mess

Only as you are; will I come into you; only as you are,

will my embrace become the sequence of the night's

enclosure; the similitude of secret science

Rejection for our folly; enclosure in this small space

The quiet winds of our corrupted time, spent dining

on the tears of fallen angels; I repent, and in my

pursed lips you will hear the death of my erasure

Closed pathways; unresponsive stars, spinning lightly

I calm your body; and bestow my grace upon your

systematic sins, we all fall through the net; but you

are falling heavy, and I don't want to see the purge

of your entirety, dressed like water on the rock

Come, past the rocks and through the chains of sin

And I will comfort you within my breasts; a soft

seduction of words and metaphors; I'll cradle you

And let you drift to heavy sleep; where you'll meet

God's appointed messenger, and dream heavy and

substantial claims to the throne; while I decay,

A soft and lonely withering into death.

God scares me.

The incandescent flow of ice between children wrapped

in their mothers' listless arms; the openness of greed,

and the counterpoint of what constitutes my

transgressions; the holy hour and the painted lies;

Death betrays me, every time I motion for the end

My madness consumes me; and as the thoughts of suicide

run deep; I breathe what should be my last intoxication

from your mind; the death through my inebriation;

the fluidity of a sunrise; and the counter to my start

You check the lock, to make sure no one's peeking in,

Before asking me a million questions about my loss

of sanity; in my corrupted state; when hours lost sense

When the world struck blind my measure of reality's

sentience; and every graven wound bled forth

It was this cold, calculating pressure; once observed

which reached its pressure; and provoked my senses'

decay; the motion of insanity within the bounds of

a listless idol; I gave in as you would have; to the

tension which the mother made; our holy goddess,

Christ's mother, risen also from the grave; her death

our dignity in despair's small sentence of a rift

Her child our lost and repaired formation of a drift;

And as though nothing has been written, and nothing

ever told of God, and of the other worlds; I wait,

In watching for the forms of our own redeeming

nightmares to be washed away; like gold to ruin a dark

mood; the foul contempt of the courtroom; I will bleed

And there will be enough of my death to entertain.

The resilience of what's in mind, and its persistent

glare; through energy focused on the moon, and on its

shimmering sea of stars; what forces lie in wait

Beneath a sky, full of death and beauty; luster's dream

I like to watch with you; between days, the night's

forgiving indoctrination of season's grace; our love

Could bloom on such a path as this, although you'll

find me innocently awaiting your question, the cursed

pronunciation of my name; the difference between ages

I hope you'll pass between my lines, and spew your

toxic flame; to let me touch your bases; all aligned

And house our love's first motion against the stars'

surrendered forms; their lack of depth and sea's

spinning outreach of their fires; to test the world's

perception of their resilient matter, their birth

Wholly outfitted in flame, their culmination

Sack the body, and bring the soul to bear; give birth

to the ocean; a sea of swollen idols; make them breathe

And with a motion of your hand, we'll seize these stars

And corrupt the world with fires; and with ice, bring

the motion of our madness into flesh's dietary drink;

Move the world; through substantial means, let the blood

Flow easily and let our scars bend and break through

this small matter of the mind; its fury and its outreach

As the last and final touch into infinity's foray,

a displaced heart; made of iron, gold, and mud; the

pumping fist of death; through which our lives burn

You offer me what shadows could bring, and I offer you

this fall; this final destination below the cold ice.

A ghostly reminder to what you are; when the shadows

close in around you, and there isn't left what we

could see as redemption; just a divided still, piece

by piece attracted into an ordinary strain of rebellion

And as I walk; as I fly through the anticipation of

my construction; to watch the retina divide its face

between two disenchanting stars; and I keep their

company, as they fall; out of light's persistence

And into the shadows of an open-ended romance;

With the twain receding at once; dissonant collections

of untold suns; beating out their dreams and their

emotions; through the corners of their caves;

But the peace will not remain past ten;

It will grow, this dissolution in the grave; through

steps and boundary points pressed; and nothing will

ever be the same, as we corrupt the skin; as we dissect

our dreams and come undone as dogs howling in the night;

And through my silent speech, I will encompass you with

death's retreating hands; you chose to fasten your

lengths with the desolation of the hour's system

The one I keep for your transparency; our listless

nights spent foraging for sustenance from the moon;

The gods will feed us from their secret list of words;

you say, but I can't hear them calling; and I can't see

their face; all I hear is the words you've spoken

To them; but they don't react; and there is no kindness

or venom spit; just the start of silence, blown upon

the wind; the drowning role of shadows; half dead.

The matter of our heads, replaced with innocence and

fear; and all our forfeitures of a more delicate fold,

embraced by the bleeding of our honesty; the dream

which should have died so many years past; is ripe

For the taking, for the transmission into sin;

Where we collect our places; past and present, our

ridiculous curse, placed upon the breathing motions

we've made while an honest coupling craved our dance;

Purgatory's place, sentenced to fire and death; through

water, a rebirth and the steady holding of our hands

As though the fire had shaped us; and though the death

of our obsession had come about; there would be no time

for shallow romance, no more time for deep caresses

And as the world begins its final purge of life;

There'll be apocalyptic cravings and a search for death;

but death will not come easy for us; we'll pull and

draw it near, but its escape will enter us; and we'll

Be free of silence; we'll be destitute of shame,

All our dignity spent between the sheets; arousing one

another with the simple hold of each other's grip

Motions contained in madness; they sing furious fire

And as I go, as I make this my final step into the dark;

I flee your presence and encase my own rebuttal against

the plain parts of your reflective personality;

I sink through fire, seeking the raw ash;

Entertaining the fact that we may scream together;

for the single sentence in the night; our breathed

reunion and the desolation which it brings;

In this field of unremembered dreams; where chaos

becomes the rising of our thought matter; and will

we paint the sky grey; and will we bring home the

winded youth, when all the world is met with shadows

For fortune's desk has split; and the patience we once

bore has been consumed, the rain lets down our love

And as you come, with your infinity of years tucked in

silence; I draw the weather of your motion into my head;

Causality's sweet daze and our consummation of marriage

As the winds blow, and we shelter ourselves from the sun

There is a vacant seed within my womb; dying for

redemption; and as the felt-tip marker draws your face,

there isn't any angle past our judgment; to hold you

up in the eyes of death will be my fate; and as faith

receives me; as the dawn of death pursues my shape

Heaven isn't after our rebellion; it's formed for

casualties; it hungers for the plain deaths of innocents

And as we carpet the sun with shadows; minds begin

to walk the path of our absconded sins;

The mellow mood of malcontents, as the dripping fire

bleeds into the carpet; and onto the table where they

Die their first death; before the resurrection comes

And even, out with the malfunctions and the pages of

texts' renewal; even with the hands of resistant song

I carry my weight in gold; I draw up taxes for the king,

When winds blow and the night becomes our offering;

let's take the earth's final compass to the stars,

and let the night become a fiery pit of death.

The shadows sting, and even as I fly; tomorrow grabs

me, throws me under the ocean's tide; and I cannot

escape the madness boiling deep inside my mind

Splintered sections of my fall reveal an incontiguous

sliver of unconsciousness; the boiling body of my own

despair; I sleep through dreams of past reminders

With several shades of weather throwing me back into

isolation; I fear the cold touch of death in my

surrounding state of captivity; its unclean poison

What do we relax for; when all the essence of our

exposure is set for the fire; and for the vicinity

of death; what more is there to relax for, when all

continuity is from the other path; our destruction

What bleeds through these pages is the vast majority

of our sins; the revival of our unholy screening

There must be an hour of release before the walls

crumble; before the body's collapse; and in this

freedom's span; we'll intoxicate ourselves

Purge the call to water's purity, and the baptism

for the forgiveness of our sins; we'll count the clock's

Beating heart as we await the drowning hour

And there, in the vicissitude of our denied repentance,

we'll reach for blood; and we'll breach the skies for

mercury, and make ourselves a mixture of the two

Drowning ourselves to defeat the fire; redeeming

ourselves through a fit of irony; and wine

And we'll make a mockery of ourselves; through the

repentance held for blasphemers; we'll draw up a pact

with God for the forgiveness of our sins through

our drowned bodies floating in the mire.

Our hands, in continuous remindings of what we've done;

the moments of suffering and pain; and of renewal,

The bleeding blade pressed against the skin, our only

Escape when the world is closing in; our dreams fastened

with a melancholy grip of fascination; as it plays out

upon the shadows of our despair, the secret closet;

wherein our hidden lives become stretched as thin as

newly formed ice; upon the surface of our mind

I close the grip of our entanglement; and split summer's

shades into two pieces of antagonistic youth; our bed

Our bodies, stretched thin across each other's

And in our vacancy, through death's abundance; we spread

our legs and cross our arms; and create a chasm for the

innocent marks of letting blood decide its path

While in each metaphor, I persist with the intoxication

of your youth; merged with the markings of an unformed

child; hald-dead and half-surrendered to the angels

As though my isolation has been bred for this moment's

Kiss; as though our every span of thought transpired,

on the mysteries of the divine; I call your name,

as one who has redeemed themselves from sins; I see

Your magick, and your desirous claim to heaven,

Even as the stars collide with birthing flame, I fold

myself and my collections into simple baskets of

beautiful bread; and we wait beyond the shore for you;

You were always my mistake, and my consequence.

Belief in the gods' desire for ascension; belief in

hell's formidable grip against the paths of those who

die in disbelief; their character flaws, filed with

God's own books of the resurrection of all souls;

And I find myself trapped in faith's tests; without

a change to tap into; without a warning sign sent

And my redemption falls short, and our unascending pace

Draws out the night; and the shades of death; even as

we are; we are incomplete and broken; and you have given

me everything I've desired; through your hands my tilt

has been perfected; and without the dusk shading me,

What life could have become; without the warning signs;

My faith falls; as yours has happened to, and in our

chosen stigma; in the fated alleys we've wandered

Denial's crate blooms; and the feel for ecstasy's

drought resumes; we want for pain, and we want for

death; even the soul reaps in what we've desired

Cradled bits of flesh, frozen against the doors to

hell; our bite of the bleeding mourning; passed down

through hours of resiliancy; trial and error

And you fasten your ships against the shore's line

While I make way for summer's incandescent light;

to drive me under and beneath the world; so I may see

Even as the crow calls; even as the sea erodes the sand

My melody rises against the winds; and as the sky

brings in the rain, I find myself welling up with tears

Essentially a dry fit of seasoned rain, calling out

the distance from my fantasy; to you, I cry ; my love.

It's overexposure that keeps me sane; it is the melting

of the mind which drives away the demons, and this

enclosure; as the drapes run wild and bleed across

the windows; I seek an infinity of forms from my

isolation; the disjointed hands of our God as He feels

My thighs and what lies between them; I suck the

sustenance from the valley of the dead, and find my

own composure; the singing melody of God; as my

frustration ends the only chance I ever had to open up

my sentiments, and play with angels as concrete slabs

How distant you must be from any source of recognition

As the bars close and our triumphant death comes

paralyzed; I hope to keep you swollen just as much as

death can offer us a midnight pass into the abyss

From whence we've come; our light endeavor and our

dragon's dance; as we collect the version of our minds

which bleeds seductive trances and hypnotic seizures

When heaven calls, I will be there to collect our score;

And beside the rival house, I'll come; breaking bread

and still lifes; hoping to reveal the simplicity of

love's regret; our diamond days will be at last a

reaching out of pain; the holy and the devout abandoned

While we carve for ourselves a cave; for our own

sentence; and we'll dress as nudes; bound for the

earthen cavity; a dissonant sort of seduction

While you bring me into madness, and I'll curse

So what's the matter with our devilish dreams; so what

sound will we make as the caverns subdue us; and we'll

watch from a distance as the holy enter their homes;

Fit in chains, fit for the fire from whence we came.

The chains of death, as night sets in; and comforts

cease their embrace; there is no room for you, here

In my intoxication; there is only room for pain, and its

discovery, I'll leave you here; wanting in the reception

of my home; without a care or a refusal; merely a

contemporary drift of sanity to keep you warm

You played a critical role in my death's inauguration

And will not be ignored for long; I'll choose your form

as my last compass for desire's base; and drive the

needles through my skull as my last fit of pleasure

With each passing moment's magnet delivering a fit

of youth; with the centric form of closure I pursue

My life's encapsulated drift flies heavy on the wind

So you may escape my mind's obscure reality; so you

may renew this plane of our existence when it's freed

While I deplete the essence of our madness; the

intensity of forms; while I obscure the retention of

incandescent streams of chaos, and come wildly to the

repentance of our alms; we give as we've received

Power and haste; a drive to madness

Accompanied by the fierce regression into silence;

our twisted arms, deceived as we've received our deaths

Our open-handed sentence, conceived in the chaos of our

regrets; the wild hallucinations we've foreseen

In the coming of our Lord;

Wonder and isolation, trumpeted obscurity and breath;

our last chance at ill-foreseen depletions of our death.

The quiet of the night, before pain is rediscovered;

the length of death, before each chain of life's

entanglement becomes obligatory; and the haranguing

of our settlement becomes our only hope of salvation

The promise of our own disputed territories; and the

difference between us; you on one hand and I the other;

Framed as promised; before the forgiveness of our hopes

and dreams; before the rediscovery of youth; while we

receive our own empty phrases of this mild death

I owned you; I drowned beneath your sea, and came into

possession; through demons and their offspring; their

territories; I claimed you as my own for suffering

A fool in a short shirt; a drifter, my child;

Before the announcement of our decay, and our dithered

dreams; before the world was turned blank;

I cheated and I persuaded our seclusion to enforce

Each wild sentiment of our own devising; and as the mild

dew lightened in the morning sun, I created my own

unique formula for dress; I shadowed you with song,

And I still claim the recovery of our sparse imagination

Two truths, born in black; with one wild crevice to

hold in our separate spots of blasphemy; our mild winter

And as the cold rises; so does the black center of my

fog; its dark anticipation silences our company;

I receive the retreat, and come as blank as the depths

of ashfall; I bid you farewell; I bid you motion still

While depths of fog devour the winds, and wait.

Waiting for the quiet spring to tether me to you;

and in this night's forgotten span of death, I dream

Comforted by the pillow that you left sitting against

the wall; my only soft moment in this bit of hardship

Two spans of death; one composure, and one sting

And if I write your name upon the walls; and if I taste

your death; however it may come; I want to hold you

steadily in my gaze, as I corrupt your open eyes'

singular prescription; as I unhinge the valley of your

despair, so many blind travelers here, beneath the

wings of death; so much patience with my betrothal

I issue silence as you fade from breath, and I sing

steadily the ocean's song for you; a sweet hiss

Compassion grabs you next to me; and I bestow my

silent night's sound against your ears; and I kiss you

slowly and steadily in the dark, to make you feel

Even as the day comes; we've crossed paths enough

to know the difference between right and wrong;

And not to care on bit for our transgressions

And so we seize the plains; and we portray upon them

the simplicity of grass set ablaze; the hell fire

of morning's dawn; the gaze of angels

Remiss sins; the capillaries' construction; and our

severed hell; I give you a moment's peace, while

you transcribe the place of my triumph; my peace

Power is a play; an enacted space upon our fortune

And within it, I rise the better of our pair; I wryly

shade the night with destiny's force; and phrase my own

ill will upon the contamination of our stain

Before you close the door, I will enter.

I wanted your death within my grip; I wanted to control

you; to seize your heart and make my own mind complete

Where your bonds were left; I struggled to ascend

You used me; in the vicinity of my distrust of people;

you caused my mind its dissonant reaction to your skin;

And as I composed my frustrations onto your forbearance

there was an erasure in my skin; and in the hallways

to our love's seclusion, I gave you my addiction, my

Love; you who complete the course of my reactionary

blessing, who bring to bear the simplicity of my lust

God as my illusion, as my deceit; we walk in shadows

Of firm laws, and complementary lies; I will issue for

you my mind's last omen, your well's seduction

And in the firm waters of these beautific skies;

which wash away the clear sunrise and leave only

blackened earth and and molding of a shadow's purse

Here, in isolation; I will grip onto the wind's dust

Power and lust; and greed, how difficult the sound of

death amongst the needy; how its aroused voice beckons

In the cold, as the ice contaminates our bed

Will reason fall and migrate into spring's concordance;

will there be a stomach which can leave empty its

contents for the grace of an age; will you be mine

As the deathly hollows rise from the center of the earth

And plunge their voices into my head; to carry out

the distance from the grave to the cradle; and leave

the children passed away within the night.

As you cared for me, so I will return to the death of

my sentence; and carry out the long desire for youth

Even after all the simplicity of God's silent surrender

And we'll make haste to the shadows of a night's field

carried out through pieces shattered; our only work

left before tomorrow blooms; to keep ourselves shared

Between oaths and between the stated shards of our bed

As I contrive to bring you to your own death, as I

commune with demons; here I am, destitute and longing

for the silence of some shattered oath; here I lie

in a bed of roses, drowning before your figure

A made bed; unmake it with me, and we'll make love

Violently against the frame's supple steel; all pieces

darkened with our dripping flesh; as the candles beckon

us to peaceful holdings we will not retain

I blink, and watch the shadows from the flame; I drive

the nails into your skin, and watch you bleed

As God's deliverance; so shall you be hanged; duly

Noting the pain's delivery; each motion of the stars

sent down into your veins, you universal body

Even as you writhe, I watch; feeling the ecstasy you

are denied; holy form of body; drowned in pain

I am the night; the evening come again, I am the

eternal darkness you have wanted for; I am the star

bleeding in the silence of the night; and you are

death come alive; the silent watcher of the even tide

Let the rain fall, and let ourselves be murdered.

While in the closet; while I was waiting for a friend,

I spoke my magick into the ends of my dimension;

and where I was; still waiting for a piece of

sentimental sin; to break off the corners of my mind;

I relished your hand touching me, and I was about to

walk into the plains; to where the only remaining; sun

The god I spoke to, in my prayers; hung; on broken ribs

And venting lungs, this oscillation of our own denied

death; hanging from above, I wanted to watch the summer

fall; and the winters dive into the crest of spring;

Each layer coveted; each foul familiar breath;

Sustained, as if the only was within a heart were

through alimony and death; betrayal was a distant

scourge; for bleeding my heart

And I'm lost; and I think the whole entire world is too;

Drifting in and out on wings of torment and deception,

finding the cherished mark, and making amends with God

As long as they don't fall the wrong way; then we'll

keep hold of them, then we'll stay our hand and forgive

each depth of wrong; as long as they are beautiful

We'll heat up a pot and find ourselves a stew for

the dead to eat; we'll break bread and suffer our own

Each word of our descendants will be fossilized,

Spent nights pouring over old words, inscribed;

our bitter moment in the sun; as we make light our

heaven; and I make due ; holding you for one last hour.

A spiked drink, and the resilience to take you home

with me; the covers and the bedsheets all warmed with

our bodies; the smell of peppermints bleeding into

the air; our foreign songs; reliant upon the noose

As long as the quick replacement comes, to soothe our

realization of this touch of death; and how it places

us in the vicinity of a collaborative ideal

I watch you as the winds grow heavy, and I touch

The mountains of your mind, while settled into dreams,

while trying to escape my only fear; and my quick

resolution for fantasy, I come resolved in spirit

And I want to watch you as you comfort my sores;

The plague which burns within; the bruises of my feet;

and the distance from my crawling to the moon,

each and every breath comes silently; as I cross hands

with death; and with the quiet of the night

The soul bleeds; and in my comfort, I consume

Each particle of you; from breast to bone, blood and ash

as faded as you are here, within the watching hours;

I leave you standing at the shelter to the moon

Her diamond eyes, watching you; and as the goddess rise;

I plummet through the dissonance and fear; seeking

solitude, and transmuting death into the disease which

kills, I aim for you; and I aim for my own heart

We've become transparent figures washed in by the sea

An ocean of hopelessness; a field of dreams, a desert

rising on the winds; to scour the living into death

A vast shape of nothingness, complete with reason's

remains.

Ransom for the future's betrayal, our naked selves

flustered and amused with our intentions; the cravings

for a drink of good intention, and the slaving skin

Which bothers you; one of a work with a more dominant

profession; I'd like to see you starve for a moment's

march; I'd like to see the watchmen carry you home

Even as the sea scrolls across my vision; and there is

little doubt that what will be left is waiting for me

across the end of the atlantic; but wait for the sun

In its eye, you'll see a memory of your youth, as you

burn your eyes; and in the dust of the earth, you'll

be paralyzed;

It's time for the secret summer, let our hearts be

renewed; and let the time of our unwrapping come

We'll wade in the shadows of an old flame; cast upon

the sea of our migration; and enter in the depths

through a silent fit of unreasonable doubts;

And as the world collapses; so we'll be maintained

I dress you in the garments of a queen, dispersed from

reality; and purely fictional, you are the aesthetic

to my surrender; and my gaze alters your course

Open every vein, and bleed over me; let the bath in

blood continue; so we may still our youth; and drown

In the contempt of God's acquittal; we'll bake bread

And hold our feast on valentine's; to save the cerebral

portion as our sympathies complete their course; I'll

draw out your venom; as you swallow mine;

And in the depths of a recessive bath, we'll wash out

every kindness; and every moment of our perfection.

Our work, and our renewal of the self's contamination;

unfettered processes gone wrong, your undying features

And the mark of death laid down across our backs

I feel, in the company of strangers; some small

redeeming worth, but in this company, my resolve will

vanish as quickly as the sun enters the dawn

Night retains a mystery of youth, and in my

contamination, I bleed the empathy of realization

And murder is synonymous with the vanishing point

Our dissolution creates a semblance of our lost desire's

path; and through the mind of our self-worth, I'm

vanquished; I have no hope of redemption through your

eyes, and even as the stars complete their course

All I see is death.

Marry me, so that in the violence of bodies we can

retain an air of dignity; so in the constitution of our

form, we may be enlightened; bury me, beneath a score

of sheets; and mutter into my ears every sort of filth

And mind my innocence, and my infatuation with God

So, as I come beneath you; there will be blood; and the

enlightenment of demons shall pertain to us

Resonate with the wholeness of our worth; and plead

with heaven's angels for the lone erasure of our debt

And we'll play solitaire beneath the foils of our naked

skin; we'll recreate the beauty of a distant star,

bleeding its light through an empty sky; waiting for

a watcher's naked eye, to catch our scent; and devour us

The light beside you; as it sings, and disconnects you

from the reality of truth; this one single sentence

Even as you come in, and drape yourself across the

window pane; unraveling your shadows and your shame

I feel sheltered, in this continuum of flesh and decay

And only as you rise, and rape my feeling form; will

I budge; uncovering myself, as you repeat the magick

words; and I negate myself in sorcery and death

If you force my hands, if you bring my winded body

into sin; if you deny me breath; then I can sing

Dead eyes still remember you; and in the fallacy of

my continued excavation, my body risen; I fall

And only a moment's glimpse of death reminds me,

I haven't gone; I've only succumbed to the vacant form,

and in my wildest dreams there's no escaping you;

When death comes back and life bleeds me, I find a

ruination of my body to blow into my breath of life;

and in despair, I walk the sea's length at the shore

Drowning myself in the ocean; once more, and gazing

Into the deep blue eyes of my resuscitation; my vacant

death; calming me, as I corrupt the patterns of my

sins; the ill discovery of our contamination

Even as you submerge me, I find breath to stay alive

And I resolve to keep you close; in the vicinity of

my bedroom, to tease out the demons of my birth,

And calm the seas from their inescapable surrender.

For the light of your surrender to me, I give you my

love; painted on the wind, and the night's howling

Beneath a full moon; rising on the shadows of a broken

sky; a soliloquy of angelic death, saved from the

matter of a broken star; even as the night falls,

my loneliness betrays my heart; and I issue out a fever

of sentient gaze; I dry my eyes in the sea

And let the foam resolve my life's descent

Here, in the madness of a broken mind; I descend

Watching the world I've given up, letting the motion

of the earth transcend the spires I have lightened

And letting every hollow thought divide my substance

You are the gift I needed to rescind my sustenance;

so I could grip onto a bit of madness from the sea,

And let the caves of death swallow me whole

You were my transference into agony, my life's deceit;

so that even as the wind consumed my consciousness;

I could breathe, and let my breath become stagnation

Open your wounds, as I have; and let them bleed

So we may become one flesh; divided through our sins;

and keep each other's company when the vacancy of

sins propose our destiny; we will enter the great divide

Poisoned drought of reticent arrangements; our death

Held within the hands of the gods; as they have

purchased us, against the formation of our hopelessness

One flesh, moved with the divine grace; one matter

and one bleeding hand pressed into the embrace of

another.

In this lost consciousness, where I frame my life;

our bent shadows claim the distance between ourselves

and our reflection, and I resume the calling of a

subsequent child; into my womb

Each mild contamination of our breath speaks visions

And as we hold ourselves beneath the flame's

intoxication, I want for you; for your divinity of death

Even as the sun peels through our window's blinds

I carry with me the sands of hell, and don't deny their

substance; as you cradle me in my desirous pose; I

drain your life; I sentence us both to die

While we feed upon the malignant scars; our earth

Our only substance of matter, these deathly hollows;

framed from the beginning with our voices; clear as

day; the peeled reality of life's essence; purged

I give to you the matter of my voice; the slow breath

And as you carry out our calling, our violent death;

I'll praise the intermission for our contamination,

our slow drink into dying; the poison from the well

And we'll meet the chained reactionaries; we'll bleed

into the pool of death, where we recline; and hasten

to speed the delivery of our ungodly birth

Help me find a noose to tie;

So I may feed hell's ascension, so I may climb into

the dusty oracle's globe; and may decline God's

beauteous reminder of what the heavens may hold

A romance filled with despair and longing

A child's feet, planted at the edge of an uncaring world

Dark substance; blessed with the betrayal of self;

contaminated with sin, and sunk beyond the reach of

death; we move through shelves of consciousness

As I betray your self-indulgence; and give you nothing

As love returns, unbroken; I place my arms around

myself, and enter into a pact with the devil

Loathing every word you've ever spoken to me

I am the gift of my deliverance, speak now; or forever

hold your tongue; I am the mourning, and the grave;

deliver me from your grasp, and I will come to you

A snake, writhing through a sea of transgressive sin

Open up your mouth, and I will issue fire for your

breath; leave the light on, and I will give you peace

everlasting; there is but one concern to give you

And that is the light of an eternal star; piercing flesh

At home, in my abandon; I crave nothing of your skin,

the loneliness I've taken into my heart is a gnawing

and an endless pain; and I grip onto your flesh

With the need for dissonant resurfacing; the sound

of the ocean's crested wave; I will not begin to

crave your light again; each endless death, deceived

in the mind's eye as a collection of fantasy fulfilled

I'll drift into the sea, as you escape my bonds

And watch the ocean fill with bones of the dead.

The threat of glass shattered while my intentions

break upon the ground; the mild noise of death

Each eye positioned on the integrity of your words

And as mobile senses play tricks against a grain of

steel; I see within my mind's eye your infatuation

and grant myself the principle of death's intoxication

Every moment's stand, as washed shades of ill intent

Enraptured phrases sentenced to a death of God's retreat

while plucking at the pure gold strings of heaven's

angelic musicians; I focus my own mind to the task of

ascension's reminiscence; our faded folds of death's

depletion pocketed, while every member says her grace

What evening does with the remainder of our ill intent

Your kiss, touching through my veins; and pleasantly

dissolving the sun from my eyes; a moment's grace,

and the honest pause of our ascension; magnified

Let the remainder interact with our illusion,

While we can feed, upon the scores of the dead; these

ill living substances of flesh and bone, our world

is that of a monster's ire; where we can feed freely

And let the corpses rot, and decay; nothing matters

The more we walk, the more we manage to corrupt

ourselves, and stay without regret of works we've

Designed; our compass comes clear; and we delight

Ever more in the resuscitation of our deathly bodies.

A murder, caused through isolation's guilt; and the pain

wraps its fingers around my neck as I unfurl my desire

Each portion of this sympathetic still life's change

has brought me to the embassy of death's clear conscious

And I change my pattern to preclude the onset of demise

A shift in substance, and the hour's markings on the

glass surface; there's too much deceit in coming out

against the storm; so I shelter myself in mirrors

And my mask fades, as the endowment of the earth has

formed its substance; and even though my breath

transpires and is gone; I dive through the shallow

waters and mark my grave with the sands of time

Dissonant tides roll in, and keep me company

And as the sands dissolve in the mystic sea foam; I

bring myself to bear the silent hour, I seek youth

Somewhere along the shore; I'll find myself sinking

in the sand, unable to breathe; without a portion

of my life to spend, without any pretext of death

Only in a moment of succumbing to the raw hold of earth,

I'll find the necessary solid construction to build my

temple; and there, I'll break into the vicinity of the

gods; and spend my time relaxing among the sea

In death, in the near sentence of my own demise;

Where blissful silence reigns supreme; I'll dive,

and come into the earth's final form of simplistic

purity; and then we'll hold hands in the life's

Antagonistic slumber; the role of our endless decay.

In the dust storms, bleeding out my every last word to

our surrender; completing the score for our last dance,

as the music writhes inside me; and as you come to see

me here, with nothing but the walls to keep us apart;

These windows give your light; and shine the beauty of

your scars; the simpler things which pierce me;

It isn't heaven sent; it is in your blood; it's in your

womb, it's in each and every word you've ever said to me

So, as the kingdom closes her walls; I'm strewn against

the knowledge of what may come; as separation splits

night from the day; there must be some past anguish

ready to spill out; on either side of the divide,

there's anger and mistrust; and death, and loss;

The feeding begins, and the chaste words of angels are

not so pure now; as we watch their vampiric souls to

tempt the demons; razor-sharp bites

And what of me, and mine; where will we split our chord

Each scheduled sentence must abide by the fury of fate,

but our fate has yet to be written; and our desires hold

fast to the will of God, in His deceit of the world

Each present tense binding, becomes an actualized stain,

and as we pass through fire; through the demon's den,

there's too much sitting on stones to meet the angels;

there's too much listening to a series in the stars

To find your way home; but we can subdue the planets,

And we can resist our wills to enter into a pact with

God; even as the wind refuses water, I'll be blind

before I release the prisoners into hell's morbid

flame; let them come into here, let them replace

The iron will.

Within the secret soul; where dark revolutions happen,

and the night plays its concordance against the stars;

Even as the refrain sets in, and the willows dance in

the wind and rain; here we find our child unmolested

By the earth's great spasms of reflected force

And while the truth of coming seizes the ancient waters;

and as the simpler scars begin to bleed, a moping giant

feeds upon the ashes of its dead; without remark

Only as the planes begin their final descent upon man,

As the film stretches to capture each and every flight;

the fancy deaths carried out through mirror masks

The emotional collapse of one who has yet to see the end

We spare what we will; and leave the cupboards bare;

and run. Death-defying acts of deliverance; our savior

and our grace, become one untied element of nature

Burning fire and the wind;

Each signal flare from yesterday's denied establishment

comes in a wash, ready to be consumed; there is no

absolute shelter within a war zone; there is no free

flight, merely the caves we enter to complete our

sacrifice; deathly hollows and a drink of wine

Mixed with myrrh; the shelter of our home has been

our fault; and our subdual; the craven words of our

Revived state; in our collapse, we'll breathe the scars

we've bled through, and eat the locusts from our skin

A moment's knowledge as we pass through the plates of

burning iron; freeing ourselves from this eternal sun.

Our hope; and our desire, as we are destined for an

eternity's lust; the bleeding out of hopelessness and

fit for shallow dreams of deep surrender

As the pages fall, in order; and as the rain depletes

Our mild dissolve, and carries in the waste of our

redemptive sighs; I crave the insanity of a midnight's

Weary arms; folding in on me, the host's intoxication

And the blessing of a midnight shower, pouring down;

in fact, I feel both; the ecstasy and the illusion

While you decide what's in it for the rest of mankind;

I'll wash the bedsheets, and sweep the floorboards;

I'll take you drunk, as you are; and hold you in a grip

you cannot break, I will redeem you from your sentence

And carry in the scars of your demonic sins; point to

them with my decisive grip, and let you go; once I've

held you firmly in my arms;

There's an easier way to be rid of you

But when the chaos comes calling, and the frightened

birds begin to sing; I guess that chance has little

luck deciding what pathway you should take

The ease of death's deliverance may be the only mixture

for such a broken mind, and the malcontempt machinery

a partial freeze of desperate wind; an only child's

beating heart; waiting for her mother to arrive;

But the winds won't take kindly to her, and her mother

is fast asleep in blissful dreaming; so know there is

no other place to perform such a haunting, as in

This hour, driven on the day's substance of ill regard.

In the still perfume; watching the unmoving eye, as

trapped in still perfection as it gazes on

Your mouth is my memory; and what it tastes is gold,

a hundred miles below the sea's crest; I can see you

bleeding; and urge you come forth, control your eyes

And die. Watchful, and mindful of what's to come

I drink the empty glass, deeply breathing its contents;

and asking you to bear your mark upon my skin

The enclosure, and the wrapped flesh; needing for

nothing, but a still reflection of the fallen

Hope gives into lies, and deceit comes crashing

The efforts of your life's remaining sin; pushing

through these waters of the unconscious mind; purging

the denied conjecture that you have indeed found God

In His last pursuit of death

And as I notice you, trapped in the will of rejection;

I offer you this, my innocence; wrapped up in a string

Take me by my will; and drown me in your sea

So while the plain light of day above us shines, we

will travel the eternal darkness in a kiss; meant for

eternity's smile; even as the sea grows cold around us

We'll motion ourselves between the waves and the current

Dressed in silk robes which cling to my otherwise naked

flesh; I'll drape you in heaven's slow descent, and

purge myself of calamity's violent conjecture

I'll place a ring around my arm; and call you my own.

Immersion in scientific forms; the bleeding idols

pressed hard against the skin and leaving marks

Our silent hour, stretched out with the blazing of the

sun; and a small record of our death played out through

the speakers; our only last kiss, given the qualities

of our lust fulfilled through silence's scourge

And our mobile access to the restrictive sins of youth

Our fortunate assemblage of dust and decay into new

flesh and beautific bodies; the stretching of clay and

grass as we deceive the irony of past perceptions

A motion's moment, gone in the fasting of death's window

Where too much clay recedes into the company of saints;

our severed flesh, our moment of virginity stolen

Each risen star consumes our bodies; each life's

passage becomes a blissful dream full of resurrection

And the store of life foretells the simplicity of beauty

And as we come, the night hollers for a change of wind;

for the elite to enter into a pact with death; to

complete the memory of a cursed aisle of destruction

What winter's course will abide by, we'll be freed

From evolutionary change; from the night's violence;

from the patterns of death's deceit, washing over us

And as the phrase completes, we'll wash ourselves in

the glass ocean; set with shards

And rise up, against the motion of the stars.

A kiss of death; the slow dissolution from our faith,

and our desire takes hold of me; within this sphere,

I contemplate the bath of blood in the ocean of my mind

And hold onto the lyrical transgressions of my sins

For each memory bleeding into this sea of death, I grasp

the migratory path of birds, and hollow out myself into

dreams left for tomorrow's substance; as I fade away,

Each captured form recedes into this blood bath

And it is memory's decay which holds me underneath the

foam; and suds require a solvent stain to emerge; where

death's delay becomes a comfort, and I hold; pressed

Against the small indecent exposure of my frame

And the pentacle sings her adolescent cry; for me to

transgress the nature of our given song; as I weep,

the hour presses in and the avalanche collides with my

passing death; and the mountain corrupts my passage

Into the regression of forms, and the flurry of the

night; the snowfall, as if descents from the gods

A moment in review; a sheltered storm; sinking into

death's delivery room; as the weeds of my deception

are laid bare, and all honesty springs forth as glass

shards, bent and broken on the footfalls of the angels

We use this time from our despair to sing our sins'

To redeem ourselves through our deepest desires; and

foresee the chaos in our subdued collective

Each motion pressed is an hour past the death of our

denial; the renaissance of our contamination; our silent

hymn to corruption; And as the song subdues our minds,

We rock our swollen bodies into sleep eternal.

The development of our deaths; the closed seductions,

born of filth and ash; which keep the semblance of our

soul completed in their forms; our destitute dreams,

my compass to all which surrounds the open air of my

revival; a kiss from your open mouth; with death oozing

out, the patience we have delivered through thick skins

You bent the magick when it was struck high above us

Like light, refracted through a lens; our own corruption

speaks light-hearted melodies; and contrived revolutions

While the ownership of the plains beats our own

productive worth; land meets land-locked counterpart

And as the sea gains feet; and tramples on the beach

We come apart, we defy the acts of God; and we set

concrete in the earth, and we build skyscrapers

Let every facet of the land become an obstacle to

heaven's reach; and we'll devour kingdoms of nature's

mind, and the absolute construction of the earth

I miss your breath; the evanescence of your life's

construction; the moments you faded through time to

seek me out; your fit resemblance to a queen, transpired

Each breath you take becomes a metaphor for my

persistence; each dream you recreate contains the

motion of the stars and all their madness

And while I wait for you, beneath the ocean of the sky

Seven feet tall, on high heels; stretching me to their

limit; each cold caress of death becomes a quiet

Issue, bent plainly on the winds; and though I call

you rightly in the center of the night; I wait for your

enclosure to wrap me still beneath the quiet stars.

In this clear blue sky, beneath an ocean of sunlight;

I find my way to you, clearing the ivy from my path,

And there's a resurrection here, of flesh and blood

To where I sing my deliverance song; our magick touch,

stolen by the sons of God; our quiet space resumes

with a marking on the flesh; our restriction and our

rest; the easy love, quiet as the night in full abandon

You stretch your wings, but cannot find the space to fly

An easy ascent to godhood; as it brings the lonely and

the dark into delivery; even as the crow flies, you

drown yourself in a bathtub made of iron; an open cross

Etched upon the tablet; as you descend the depths of

hell, searching for something you have lost; the cradle

to your grave, the wet bath dropping you beneath the

water's lip; and I pretend not to notice you

Four feet below me; pressed in mud and broken sentiment;

The cries of death still ringing in my ears; your stolen

watch remains at time, and you drink the remainder of

your birthright; the depths of hell's descent

Carry you beneath your broken tomb; and in the daylight

Your forgiveness fails, and your wild eyes flounder,

at ease of pain; the flesh folds neatly in the grave;

While wilder parts of you make their march through

Heaven's gates and hell's pursuit; as you chase the

wilds of the night; their dissonant song, as it reminds

you of a feature length film; two open destinies

One denied, while the other is fulfilled prophecy

Gained through reason's romance with the stars.

We are in transit, you and I; as though flying through

the midnight mass, seeking our final corruption; and

though I would estrange myself from sin, to find our

Hour of honesty and deceit's redesigned perception

I call upon you; as I fall, and find my legs won't

carry me through this deserted summer's broken bonds

At lengths, I try to rationalize away my fears

I seek perfection in the clouds and what rain they bear;

while in my empty glass, I try to squeeze out enough

of my own blood to bear the silence of an incomplete

course; as I dine upon myself; the words roll swiftly

Off the tongue's imperfect form; through lisp and ice

What dreadful shadows bring to bear, the broken

substance of our founding fathers; the dead in the tomb

Who await an unfulfilled prophecy's heresy to reconnect

While you, in your desirous aim; sling a burden across

your back, and wait; knowing that I'll give in to pain

and suffering, the completed draft of dissonant cause

Only as the free birds fly; will I descend destruction

And cause you enough of your own pain's pleasantries

to awaken the demon drowning within my ascending heart

I leave you, broken; whispering the names of God

So you may hear the sacred bell, as it rings clearly;

and I won't curse you, and I won't hold you accountable;

But I will hold your child, in my grip.

When the bright lights come down; and offer up your soul

When the danger of the night's wind presses in on you,

and you're found frightened by the beast's venom;

I will comfort you, and enslave myself to your prolonged

attachment; I've dreamed for this day, for this hour

to come, for you to season me with the right requirement

for me to breathe again; it's been so long beneath

The ocean's drift; fading in the pools of death

That as I see your face, shimmering upon the surface

of the waters; I see hope, and I see dreams fulfilled;

If only momentarily; I see our embodied life, cast

without shadows, and breathing ecstasy;

I watch the dew drops spin in and out of existence

Even as your body encompasses my every thought; I writhe

and consume myself for days and weeks; I'm bleeding

for a chance to enter into your thoughts; to unravel

your mind and let it bleed into mine; a free flow

And there's too much love within me, trying to escape

That even after we have spanned the edges of the earth,

there will be bodies punished, and the wings of angels

will defeat my birth; and consume my every drop of death

Lightning comes, and the hour rises where we may fall

Hoping to subdue your fantasy, hoping to unleash the

embodiment of Christ; when heaven sees what I have seen,

The letting loose of all desire's reason; and giving in

to pure, unfettered madness; in the ecstasy of

completion and in the utterance of death's defied

gravity; I will stake my life on still corruption.

We've loved, and we've lost along the way; what what

we've become, since the dying of our days; when sweet

fruits filled our breath, and not the necessary bite

of pain; an hour's corruption against the skin

And every weight of our sore redemptive qualities

You were the youth I spent my time with; when time was

sparse; and lies ran short and inconvenient truths

Became the mystery around which my house was built;

And in the settled dust, I found your face; distinct

from any other form I'd have laid eyes on, and though

I knew it was yours; I pretended not to see, I caved

in; inside my being, and sprang away; loose and free

Like every thought you'd have had me imagine being

The cold contemplation of your death; in this deliberate

hold; it struck me deeply, it made me cold; and without

you here, beside me when the water falls; who will

be my anchor; who will choose the time of night for the

stars to ascend heaven; and who will know the moment

To stay back talking, and to rescind her words

I can complete this denial of destiny's fortunes,

I can change the fates to include my name next to yours;

And I can find some blighted angel to speak your last

words; carried on the coffin, and through the earth

But you won't wake up from this denial of life's breath,

Even when the hour comes past dawn on the fifth of

September; and we would have risen high upon the

mountain side; searching for our calamity's destination.

We've graced the dance; and come into the fortress

of our belonging, with each breath upon this icy wind

I call your name, and you beside me ; answer

So the seasons will change, and you will disappear;

but I'll still call you in the night, trying to escape

my fear of loneliness; there's an influx of desire

Upon our bed, we make the room violently corrupt

And without a hint of fear's dissolving consequences;

I dress you in the silks my mother left; such a perfect

stain of death, as we succumb to the passions of the

moon; in her bent motions of loyalty and perseverance

We play as hidden children, passing through the dark

While my mind seizes, and suffers the distant cries of

your denial; I can't escape the loneliness you've

pressured me into; the long death of love's decay

Each and every moment here, I beg you to stop bleeding

To stay; and finish up what you've begun, taming the

stray dog to play tricks upon your mind; never enter,

once you've gone completely mad; I will drain you of

all possibility of our seductive role; as death plays

On through candle-lit vigils; holding peace and

loneliness through senses draped with effigies of God

It's a lone mark, dropped into a vacant spill of night

And when the silence comes; I will collect my memories;

I'll drape them coldly in the frost of winter's dew,

And take to my home in silence; where thoughts corrupt

the mind, and chaos instills a little madness, like

a fire too small to burn; and I will feed the flames

With the remainder of our lust and innocence.

We'll traverse the paths which were given us, when we

pretended not to care; when youth was fleeting, and

the sole anticipation laid upon the mind was your love's

Quest; the grail of my only thirst, dressed in silent

nights, contemplating the stars and the corruption of

machinery; all our necessary bite to drench ourselves

In the world's mischief, as it pours down through our

diamond shaped scars; and feeds the difference between

bodies and semaphors; and the broken-hearted mole

Reading into every memory, and every spare space;

Each silent contrivance; and as the martyrs sing their

hymns; I watch with irony and with malice; and with

mischief; as you try to seize the day's transparent

scars; without a focus of deliverance, without flight

And in each death, there rises in you a dumbing down

of the right hand; and the fluids of the left pour,

It's such an innocently seeming game, to let such

heaven enter you; to let the world abide as purely

forties without shape of entity and moss' entanglement

But I lie incompletely, and let the hollows fold in,

Each memory of motion, for me; is but a centric atom

of the attic's spire; some metaphor of unjust

consequence; without a brooding motion of another plane

While you and I screen the distance to the stars

When the world was nothing as it has been; just an uncut

screening; a foreign film; I motion to you, to let the

demons abide within you; to let the stationary mind

move its mountains without transferal of its madness;

And as you cut corners, I will make motions with my

mouth; stifle the intimacy of this cold settlement.

Beneath the frame of beauty and insecurity; I drop my

thigh's resilient offering, and make a trust between

us; to obscure the confines of the night's passage

And in the mild intoxication of death arrives a sultry

air; to cleanse the poison from our favor; to purge

The night's wind from the hour of our consummation

Only in the aroused remarks of death's gleeful gaze,

do I remember who you were; and what you meant to me

Sitting in the dark, below the canopy of my favorite

stay from the heavens' glare, I shield my eyes from

the moon; there isn't any way to change this story

To remain a fortress against the role of savior and

survivor; to plead with the embassy of our hopelessness

Every inch of your body is craving what I give you

A strong intoxication of breath, the needle in your vein

And here; in the subsection of our fantasy, our driven

madness blames the intimacy of our youth; and I blame

Your early decimation; in form and comfort; your body,

blessed with slow recovery and without aging; you are

like a goddess, I have sewn up my blade for your hand

Neither do I redeem myself through sentiments

Each blessed mark, carries on its lips my madness; and

my becoming; I will wake to you, and focus as a dream

Gone mad; gone the way of dark delights; I crave

Your sympathy, and when I find you have none; only

deeper longings and darker greed; I find you lovely;

Beneath the sheets; I find you wonderful and fierce;

the bitter blood of angels born through deception.

A scant description; just enough to wet the lips, with

our sentimental rhymes still encapsulating the divine,

And patience's purge of all the bitter truths we've

told; and reason's rhymes; while madness milks the

remainder of our desecrated lives; I see through these

Tokens of affection, and I can look into your eyes,

And notice there's some kind of monster within you,

don't be afraid; I've got one too, I've never been

able to confess my love completely; but there is death

Between us; there are tokens of the midnight flames,

Which burn brightly through the shadows of our desolate

consumption; the breeze carries us apart, but the light

has come to find us whole; as the earth separates, so

will we find our steps, and so will we find our way

There is a motion in the shadows; bleeding black dust,

and as it enters in the hollow of our tomb; we'll

wait, we must find a redemptive scab to close us up;

so we can throw stones at it; so we can relate our

madness into the streets; then the world will be

alight with our love, and our consistency; our passion's

Unfolded flight; raving mad company, desolate mind;

I will walk through my madness incomplete, and wrestling

with all desires of my bloated form; my sunken eyes

will twist the truth and intoxication of my path will

bring me under and beneath these frozen scars;

Is there a better way to brood, is there no other way

to save this broken mess of humanity; can I walk

plainly and secure in my own differentiations; can I

speak my mind, and swallow the sword of truth, in my

digestion sing the parables of thought through every

moment of my conception to the grave; will I still

bleed red;

I felt charged; when you took me up in your arms, and

made me forget all lost sentiments passing through;

The emotion in your lies; this brash bonding, the degree

to which we've sinned and kept it under wraps; I can't

deny how my eyes have longed to feed upon your face

A momentary cut and a denial of the skin's breath

Don't pull me under again, don't feed me with a river

of muddy waters; I want the purity of your voice

Each moment's trappings; each sentiment of broad

destruction, I hold you outward; away from my body

And to my mind, it's settled; the seeming stew of

death's deception; as we collapse, and make due for

what can bleed; my mind is wrapped around you

With little room to escape your plight; and our

unfettered song begins to play the arrival of our

betrothal; a moment's kiss, and the walking mess of

yesterday's drought; let it rain, let the waters pour

Even here, the winds blow unnecessarily against my skin

As if to tie my soul to your unbiased doubts; I sing,

while the remainder of my voice becomes a sounding board

And here, on this unsettled surface; I recreate my debt

Two hands tied, and two mouths locked within a

comfortable grip; a token of plain denial; a

bloodletting, yours and mine; exchanged through fire

When all the world pleads for its redemption, we'll

make a mockery of sin; and sketch out the system on

our pages; we'll drown within the bath waters; and

dream of a culture where this is not forbidden.

My skin's lie; what purpose it has broken with its

mouth; while the spirit sings another tune, the daunting

rebellion of my youth; played out in fire's ash

The rest is left for dead, the soul stains the mark

of innocence's regret; and pain watches your torment,

and marks your mind; letting go isn't so easy

A momentary watch, of more simplistic sins; the conquest

of flesh's divide, and the divination of truth; beside

you, I come; and I watch the wellspring as you pull

out a bucket for my troubles; and I weep for whose

Remainder lies in full, the conquest of this innocent

salvation; and I hold out the momentary stain of bliss

Perched in the everlasting sun, where quiet space

corrupts the whole of the dead; and there isn't anything

left to burn, except their faces from our memories;

Three skins, bleeding; and the mark of the devil spread

Each silhouette lies broken, each claim to God's

derision; fostered youth, and an unabashed bloodletting

A quiet psalm, spoken slowly as the desolation spurns

the night's oblivion; you may enter, but all is calm

So when we speak, there'll be no warning sign

And you may find me needing the retention of your words;

when all is calm, and there's no sign of a surrender,

even as the mystic plot bends and contorts to our will

Let every motion of our final say, spew; and with it,

our production leave the waters burning, so we may

find in our life's end a hollow draft of wind,

To tie us to the spike; and carry out our sentence.

In the simplicity of our returned chasm of love; the

emptiness of the heart and its hollow spell, the burning

fires within the soul, pleading for release from pain

I settle into you, my ghost; my fever. Even as the sun

spins upon its course to total destruction; I spin

In a hopeless refrain; the totality of this remains

my longing, and my endless desire for your love

As the world remains a part of me; so shall I remain

a part of you, and in this dusty chasm, I shall see

the endless fires of hell, bleeding for our resemblance

Our purgatory spell, sinking us into the remainder of

our covenant; our pact with demons, and with the darker

elements of the night; my fire belongs to you

And you will snuff me out; as I will do to you

In the end, we'll bleed; and we'll make lasting love

beneath the ocean's cresting flames; as we submerge

ourselves and bring about the endless flight of death

So make it last, this emptiness; cherish the moments

of our resolve, to purge ourselves of sin

And quicken our last breath

It's easy to remain afloat, forever lasting on the

skin of the ocean's tide; as beacons for the thoughtless

urge to plunge beneath the hold; and seize infinity's

laughter, as it sings; hold out for my redemption

And wade into the annihilation of our bodies

Beneath the soil; within the earth, we'll embody Christ

And breathe a token of our redemptive stain; before

the night closes and the loose leaves of heaven drag us

into the pearly gates.

The quiet night, and the surrounding chaos of the mind;

within its echo, I resume my peaceful pilot; the light

stirs, and the fountain of our youth becomes intoxifying

I claim my simple motion in the stars to be the fever

Of my longing; my passion preserved through an extended

arm; and while I rock this cradle, and call upon the

gods' extended swing, to bring about a calm and undenied

peaceful motion against the starving of the stars

Their mystic plight to sing me off to sleep;

When there is thunder, and creation's glare; who will

discuss the angels' habitation, and where will we be

amongst the heavens' form; when all the world is

under siege by nature's dogma; the ill deceit of earth

Change my mind through epitaphs; the replacement of our

features upon the face, I'll wear yours, if you want

I'll replace my system and my scars; each bitter poison

draft remembered without the curiosity of senses

While I remark, while I displace myself in your abode

Three senses, demarcated; as the lungs perceive my

madness; and my heart retains the bitter foil of love

So many lies received through plastic purchase

And as you let the altercation of my death conceive,

I'll bite and I'll bleed you dry of blood; for in each

sentient moment here; we will perceive the motions

of each other's heart, and mine will creep upon you

So many fractures, and so many broken sentiments of form

What you'll believe, when I tell you of my breath's

descent; is nothing of my words; is nothing of the

motions of my mouth; you sleep in still perfection.

You found me on the brink of non-existence, and

comforted me with your stories of the earth's

annihilation; your breath pounded in my ears

And as the warmth of your blood poured over me; I found

your heart's flow intoxicating, as I blew my own breath

across your spine; as I took in your scent

Each fading memory of this; each distant collapse of

thought; and each encapsulating phrase of your existence

Drew me into death's fantastic form

You pulled out of my decaying drought of love's repair;

and left me writhing in a bed of sea's despair, longing

for your return; and the mystic ocean's sentence

I wanted for anything to have you, as the will collects

Its form and substance; to have you wash up beneath me,

and to feel the sting of your arousal between my legs

What lovers do, when they are separated by the sea

I hoped I could collect the pieces of your memory;

and watch you at length, bleeding into me; my bite and

my sentence; lingering on the darkness of the wind

Our love's last glance, its purchase in of form

The embodiment of Christ's last supper; a salient mist

pouring down the throat, our death and resurrection

A forgotten hope, moving as the sea against our ship;

drowning us in fire, and the water of a midnight mind

It's here I sentence you to die; within the motions

of a dreadful mist from heaven; an encapsulating shift

of the wind's eye; breathing soft surrenders to your

lips, and in this phantasm of force and will; to seize

you; even as I claim your only child's birth

To drown us all within the water's drift.

In clear contempt of what has passed before; of what

was said between worlds; of our regretful deaths, when I

exchanged our minds for something less forgiving

At least we summed in our words through the apothecary;

and found the substances required for anticipating

speech; and you dressed up as an angel; in the dark

decor of my imagination; we spilled speech and death

Became a moving target for our eyes; each passing regret

Each false hope, to train the eyes; to take in substance

and make fit the innocence for little dreams; and not

corrupt our speech; which was won as moons go under

the earth and into the swollen sea; and my feelings

burn; even as the continued chasm churns out secrets

False feelings and anticipatory revelations burn through

My heart; encompassing the flames becomes an affair;

meant for the eyes of a goddess; and I cannot unravel

these dissonant moons; as they partake in the blood

of the two witnesses; fallen from heaven's grace

Each momentary pause becomes deceptive; every sparse

element of our condition lays down the revelry I've

been conditioned to; and each moment I watch the world

pass me by; is a quiet instilled separation of my peace

Love; in its momentary cares, and desire when the

madness collects; and all the space of breath becomes

our bleeding terror; I fasten mine to you,

So I won't be alone when the ominous procession of the

night beats out its melody; and I will not be the last

one standing when my seeds begin their descent;

I'll watch with you, and as your comfort lies, will be

broken; before the madness of consumption drains my

head of lies; and truths perceived; I'll watch with you

through the hourglass' preserved lens.

The moment that you passed your review; and I pressed

in, and made you sing; the energy between us still in

process and in motion, our souls' contemptuous score

And the migraine that I felt as I was holding onto your

delicious wind; your breath against my virgin skin;

and the way you passed beneath me, and severed all

connection to my love's past regrets; my will, wanting

Even as I held you in the motionless scars of death

It wasn't enough to tame my heart, and let the seasons

pass; I conjured every dark magick I could dream of

Just to hear your heart beat one last time

While in the sentence of your curse, I felt for you;

my death and my destructive forces gaining pressure

Against your soul; in the deepest parts of fear, I

found myself alone; and bleeding, watching you

transgress; watching your body feed on me

When in the night; I chose to conjure up a storm

Let the watch flow through your veins, and time

continue; to let the healing process your infinity of

youth, and let the headaches slip away into the stream

Farewell, my angel; and my love, slip away and slip

below the earth; to where the demons fly freely

And into discourse with the gods; we'll write our

journey's rhythms, and we'll desecrate the graves

of our ancestors; in this night, below the moon

Where false winds blow an air of truth

And the sainted in the chasm come complete with tears

of an everlasting faith, that blows upon the night wind

And speaks of gained deliverance through impatient minds

Her motion, through the shifting of the stars; and my

granular acceptance of the worth of her night's debt

What pains me in this thorough collapse of rock; the bed

of dark cold earth, asking me to be let out; there's

only momentary length of song worth singing here;

there's just the gloom we've already spun; and through

equipped procession through the morning's feud;

I'll carry on, as casual as I can; and stop myself in

sentences which cause the melting of the mind and an

adjustment for the liability of sleep; and dreams

When nature seems to have its hands buried in the midst

of death's procedures; and even after the thoroughness

of a thoughtful love affair, born of words and purity

of drifting dreams; and medicine made from kisses and

While all the constituents recognize our falling out

There's only the hope of a single glance to sever our

twisted connection, there's only the blood of a single

child to offer up for our sacrifice; there's just one

drop in every jar that takes our minds and blurs our

the lines, and makes a hold on you; makes our difference

And when they call at the desk; and ask what's happened

to our lover; the only one answer I know is a lie;

Each pressured statement; each dull perception stated

clearly and honestly against the two-toned system

of our discovered youth; we'll bleed easily, and fully

While the rest of you bear the mark, and we will watch

you struggle with your misconceptions and your lies;

And I will perhaps spout my own; through innocence's

sorrow and ill regret, the mischief maker's mild

intoxication; let's be free from our worries now,

And let's collapse through fire into the motion of the

moon.

What we would see, if we had lightened up our vision;

and opened up our eyes into the moon's vicious gaze,

our every moment here would be forgotten; and each drop

of death we would consume through pages torn and

glasses shattered; the world would bleed, and leave us

Drifting like a cloud in the gazing of the sun

You lie to me, and I return your favor; with the motions

of my mind bleeding into madness; I unfold my death's

certificate, and rise up against the beating of the sun

Our mercury's swelling within the heat of our assembly

The surface matter's brilliance as it showers the field;

and I, in turn; collect the memories of stars; our

fathers' death whispers broken hymns to the gods

And our own likeness can be compared to the everlasting

fire; every person is their own hell; and so forgive me,

father; for I have sinned, and come into a resurrection

Of parts and pieces, of broken limbs and ostracized

assemblage, and while you want what you can contain

within your fetters and your bonds; I'll break every

last one of your limbs, in an element of truth and pain

Describable senses; unordained actions; and the mirth

of welcoming you into my home for the second time;

Your magick and my transgressions; the start of sins

Our reflective forum, where we transpose the stars;

and give gods their thunder, and rise upon the ends

of the earth as guardian angels; keeping the distance

clean; every last moment of our youth is spent dying

And in each corrupted form of death, there we have

become the honest form of life; there is no lie

Here in the secret caverns of descent; there is only

burning flesh, and the ancient wisdom of the dead.

Your temper, and my anguish; the two restraining forces

which pull us close together, but I'm different from you

And in these leaning horses, that will feed; we'll

feed too; upon our distance and our regrets; come closer

yet, and I will dance next to you; in my attire; in my

entirety, I will collapse, and leave you without breath

Each moment we've sung; each blessed moment we've been

drunk in each other's arms; the days grow still, and

my mind withers; into fast corruption and into madness

You are the only one left who can hear my bitter spill

We weave dark magick; and for this we don't regret our

coming and our departures; these fast frontiers of

death, where I abide in you; even as you leak the will

I need for my contemplation; even as you settle the

score, and hold me up to death's defeat; I urge you

Save yourself, I'm falling too hard and too fast to be

replaced by some ancestral hold; I beg you, leave me

Alone, beneath the hollow shining moon; and I will go

To be replaced by demons' folds and the sutures which

stain my sheets; this bloody mess of desire

Folded thinly for its transgressive hold;

You belong within the mile's radius; but not so close,

not where I can feed on this corruption

There's too much at stake to lose the only hand that's

ever transfixed my love; and so I light you on fire

And burn you out of me; keep your distance at a safe

pace, and slowly let me sink my teeth in; just a drop

of you for my denial; for this catastrophe to end.

Trust becomes a virtue and an aesthetic sore; while we

test the bath with our redemptive cause, and let

friction pass us still between our lies; and cause the

deaths of our history to subside, as we cry for the

holy union of saints in an epileptic smile;

The persian resistance to our contraband; we wing along

the loneliest estate of our youth; and drown out shadows

To keep it clear, and to keep alive the mystery of all

saint's day; and to drive the stake clear in, I watch

you boiling in a sea of transmission fluid; while you

cry for home;

So much for the other persistent fights; so much for the

cravings of attention; each passage is filled with

migratory speech, and the animals are all for biting

So I stake my claim on the elements' gain, and I roll

in the sea and in the sand; and let the wind roll

Off my back, it's a silent and a quiet sound inside

my soul; and the noise of your beating heart;

and the system of a mother's love, her persistence

Tomorrow is a drought; and the favorites play,

With each recipe won, and the misery of death; and the

saints decay, and the power lines cross your bed;

And in the certainty of yesterday's sin; diluted ash

becomes the drink of choice among nature's kindred;

And even as the sentence and its art, become dry

There's a body for them; there's a body for me, that

I can't decide what is the purpose of life, what is

the ascension's ultimate attainment; and who can

resist the impossible lessons of humanity;

There is blood on the stick, and I can't sing hallelujah

