 
## Sunburn

### Maria Morisot

### Cover Art by Moan Lisa

### Published by Moan Lisa Press at Smashwords

### Public Domain

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

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.
