 
## Canary

### Maria Morisot

### Cover Art by Moan Lisa

### Published by Moan Lisa Press at Smashwords

### Public Domain

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

In streams of icewater, cold flowing particles

laid bare across the skin; I melt, and my hand

reaches far across the sky; I see you there

as time collapses through the mud and ashes;

feel your whispering breath deep beneath

the skin;

A sour word and I surrender to the calm,

the stillness of knowing nothing but your

breath; and I do not languish at the peeling

of my mind; I only throw myself repeatedly

into your caresses.

It was a fruitful flight, and I

allowing you to soar; and take me up

within your arms, not letting go;

we wander through these luscious pathways

and forget;

What was the world; what is

And far from night's bleeding edge, you swallow

earth in its entirety; divulging nothing of its

secrets you have learned; but slow steps and I

have found you waiting below the planes on my

arrival; watching patiently as you skirt about

as it's been rehearsed; I slowly fall.

Balance, at the edge of your tongue's sword

I balance; and I hang, the wiser ;

I drink a sullen stew to set death in;

drown out; sink in stains remembered

from our past; rehearse my own funeral

and am subdued by you. this place,

and I allowing ecstasy's survival;

two undoubted truths within my belly.

Once we'd taken into flight, I had no

notions left of right and wrong; just

of the swiftness of your kiss upon my skin.

And far from night's bleeding edge, you swallow

earth in its entirety; divulging nothing of its

secrets you have learned; but slow steps and I

have found you waiting below the planes on my

arrival; watching patiently as you skirt about

as it's been rehearsed; I slowly fall.

Balance, at the edge of your tongue's sword

I balance; and I hang, the wiser ;

I drink a sullen stew to set death in;

drown out; sink in stains remembered

from our past; rehearse my own funeral

and am subdued by you.

The wheel spins some more, it makes me

she makes me, dizzy as I watch the world

go under; and in her foamy shore where

I can swim beneath; I watch her with

the eyes of a predator; her gaze darkens

but I am hypnotized by the foul words

spewing from her mouth;

Go under; and I go under, and I sink;

Beneath the mists, beneath the foamy froth

of ocean, I surrender to her whimsical

amusements.

Into the silence of the sea; where dead

men's voices cease; within the hollow of her

weary arms; I cross between and under;

and down.

Drowning in the silent shores surrounding me,

dying a thousand times before her summons;

and when the raven's song,

speaks again;

I'll be forgotten as another of her dead.

There is nothing.

And what I see of death is but a long,

desirous claim upon my head; and I hold

dear to my lover's arm; and she who has

betrayed me; I wash my sins in crystal

clear waters; and at my back, when she's

awakened from the night's cool blast;

She enters me.

Poised, and between teeth the fall of words;

collision in the fog and in my watching;

I can freeze the frame of innocence's song,

and march upon the graves of the forgotten.

And you, in adoration of my works; may call

upon your mistress' harsh landing; several

moons may pass and we will be as one;

laying dead, beneath the sea; and in its storm.

In the whirlpool's sucking motion;

I see her face, that angel's glowing

face; and I see death coming down

and out upon me; like the stark singer

in the night's incandescent moon;

and I see you, the hauntress of my dreams

in all attire, waiting for my passing.

And when she calls, and you surpass in

longing every sentence that has passed

from the birthing of the sun; and I wait,

with weary form below the ocean's crested

tide; I wait for you to tear me from the night.

From the depths of where I lie; and into

tomorrow's false claim upon my skin;

she hounds the fleets of an entropic wind;

forcing up the gaze upon surrender;

my molested bride; my concubine; my death.

And in these winds, sheltered by a thirsty

voice; unobtrusive and abased within her

shrine; they come; she comes to collapse

the world upon my stool; and in the

prerogatory spin, sets out; sailing on

an irridescent wind. Sailing out to seek

tomorrow's sunlight.

I sleep in the snow of accumulated dreams;

her soft hair the whispering at my feet,

and into sleep I sink and into her;

and there I find my measure of tomorrow's

song.

We write of what we know; and what I know

are fairy's tales and gremlins in the dark;

these little goblins keeping me awake for

hours; and I watch my world crumble day by

day as I go on, unwilling to surpass myself;

And in her song I groan as it's becoming

nothing new; but merely a consistent song

in measure, through and through.

What life I had was bleeding from the seams;

is all dried up inside of me; and when I

scream loudly enough, I almost feel as though

I could wake the sleeping beauty trapped

within these walls;

And her conscripted destiny with mine,

entwined as though we'd never lived

apart; through enough and in small

worlds divided, we stand apart, again,

descending from our rift.

You howl into the night from your light perch;

and I seize every opportunity to touch you;

and when they collect both of our bodies;

summer and shine, I like to follow suit.

Sing, sweet perdition, rise above the

ever loving God; until the round up of

apocalypse remains; we'll bleed amongst

the company of saints; until the rise

up of our ancestors, we'll bleed enough

to carry out their demands.

Flourishing dreams with a hint of corruption;

all is well; but then ends don't meet; I climbed

and faltered beneath to where the winds don't

reach;

What would I to do with some sole survival;

and it isn't even what my mind believes;;

anymore;

Courses crashing, instruments unplayed;

new and old forgotten, treated poorly

for this day; all while I sleep,

all while the world delay, I've traveled

time and through other worlds today.

I close the door to you; and yours.

The severed heads may roll throughout

the daylight hours; and in my sleep tonight

you'll wake anew to cast your shadows;

without the crystal song to bend the light;

distort my visions into the rise of melody's

transcriptions; I can only bleed a few thoughts

through the prism's spires and bring a record

of the damaged entourage.

A never ending pile of misconstrued attempts

to put my mind down into words; and for the

lash I work, and for the spikes; and when it's

over there is a touch of misdirection. All is

not lost on me, but the belly of the whale

stops short; leaving me enclosed within her

walls.

Denial.

False fantasy's whorish survival; in the bleak

yard, I touch the sky and its astonishing feats

come to life before my eyes; if they were eyes,

indeed.

Lasting acts, the only of their kind and I wind

winds between my fingers for a while; spun down,

I call it, "a night."

Cigarettes & coffee, and the survival of a race;

run thin; too much of a good thing gets wasted;

I washed them down with seltzer water and a bath;

Drink to the moon, and in its hearing say

the things upon the tip of the brain stem;

Do not disappear, lover;

only stay just close enough to hear

these words echo through your nostrils;

Smell, how I wished to smell

your essence in my throat.

Your mark is mine; and here we are, alone;

and in the shadow of a fortune's blast,

we chatter to ourselves throughout the

ride; we shatter it ourselves; to make it

bleed; and so it's done, we drive through

thoughts of destruction and we sing;

carry on, the melody; rings.

Into collection's pyre for which we're aimed;

into the dead secretions of our blood and our

remains; into the heart of beauty's foul

corruptions spin; into the heart of darkness,

into the dreams of our own seductive sins.

In a wise world, where people si in stain of sin

and all the rest becomes the devil's parade;

and when the wind transcends our father's sour

anticipation of everlasting life; we can descend

into the steps of heavenly arousal;

One washing stain; another dousing themselves

in flames; the twain go unremembered in vicinity

of tomorrow's whole endowment. We watch as the

rebellion of religion's end becomes; just another

war upon the television set; we watch in our

nightgowns and pajamas; as the world goes up

in flame.

The chain breaks; leaving nothing but a scar

within its place; a daunting reminiscence of

the saviour's sun; unto the bird's nest; we

begin to rally in the troops to our surrender.

An ancient squabble, and it begins with fervent

energy; torn from the last fire of our days;

ensemble calling through the chasm of our dead;

the dreary arms of our permissions hold a

bitter flavor on the tongue; I want to abandon you.

But in these halls the cacaphonious echo raises

its voice to the ends of all existence, and in its

chaos; somewhere exclaimed is transient purity.

The dominant sound; the one I call out for,

an echo through the plane of intrepid bounty;

Her voice shatters this disconcerting wind,

with violent preminitions of the last cool

dark before she blows; and in my mind,

her peaceful stratagems' survival; I lock

and wrap the pieces she had left.

We wander; and into time we pace,

her head a fearful place to be; and mine.

Arrived at now, the prism of our youth,

we play to distant memory's revival;

the sweet songs of misery's reduction.

We play in the streets; and chant the mystery

of resurrection.

Beneath the floe of ice, I split your skin

wide open; watching you bleed and pour out

into the ocean's tide; it carries us out

into the deep, where you and I collide as

drifts of water. And in this flow and ebb

and washing of the skin, we slide; and you

and I surrender to the blowing of the sea.

Seize me here, and in our discounted fates

we'll be; again, forever drowned within;

each other's pale blue skin and broken grasp.

Into this deep decay where lovers swell;

this grand forgotten place wherein I dive;

the ocean swallows whole and then I pierce

her flesh; she screams as I plunge into

her depths;

And therein lies the ecstasy of love; in its

harboring of lost forgotten youth, and we

test the waters; and we ride upon the waves;

and we plunge beneath the ocean's tide at night.

Into our longings and desires, where we abide.

And into our escape, shall pass each other's

form; and when we mark the candle's crossing

we will pour the wax into your heart; and when

we come, undone and pure we'll shade each

other without cause or care for what tomorrow--

Bring me the shadows of your blade; between

my thoughts we'll fade into the sun; into

the burning flame, where we'll subside;

and in that distant landscape,

I will take your offering, and hide in

the shadows of your cave.

Down into chaos' crust; and the ship sinks,

swollen in the belly of our lust we drive

onwards; and to the stilted waters of this

great divide, conquering our love's contented

melody. We drive onwards; through a paleness

of the ocean's deep nothingness; where life

recedes and hope's a distant dream;

And into your blue I keep my shadows clean

for fortune's kindness has redeemed me in you.

When we collide, in the thrashing of the sea;

above where dreamers dream, I will wash my

misery between your breasts; and into the

thundrous chasm you will lay me down to bed.

I'm turned into your body, as I walk beside your mind;

when the wheels begin to turn, and all is fantasy,

this umbrella of a truth, holding me under; and when

your lips quiver from the cold, I find me biting.

Doused in the rains but dry enough to keep our comfort

and in our comfort we swell within each other's arms;

realizing this is all a dream; I fear for your encroachment

in my mind;but this is well, as we swell into a fever.

Recognizing you as but a shadow of a lie; in deep deception;

I sigh, and take a break from this charade.

But your body lies under me, and I beneath the shores

of its arrival; and I will carpet you upon the night's return.

Sweltering art; founded in conception of your eyes;

and when I saw you there, beneath the trees; in your

apparent darkness of a dress, I washed out every

innocence I had for you.

We dream, and we die; and in the interim--

I watch you staring into the murk; and in the

ash we bleed, and in the sea's uncorrupted sting,

we swim. I'll swim in you, and watch you bleed;

and drink from your bitter cup of sins;

We'll watch the eventide explode with ecstasy,

and take part; and drown ourselves in it.

We'll drown in a sea of red.

Into your lights I penetrate and I succumb

to you again; through these dark walls I've

left behind and to surrender. All seasons

fall with you, and flame's preserved anew.

Death seeps inward and onward through these

illusions I've beheld; and comes creeping

toward me, are you her; and your desires

are mine; we melt in the candle wax beneath

the flame;

Forever in the company of my mistress; and

forever seeking sorrow's blissful melody;

I reap the winds of their soul surrounding

me; while you reap the soul that's buried

in my flesh; making love through our

discarded separation. And in sin's surviving

take we're made complete.

We both came dressed for this collision,

the two of us arrived as though it's time;

one drop of red into the pool; one purging

of our longings for each other; one blessed

moment of purity's small stain, we came;

each dressed as one another.

And you in I, where we collect the moments

we had passed; and I in you, the temptress

of your love. Time passes; but you and I

drop our blood and tears; into the pool

of our belonging for the summer tide.

Your curves come to collect my thoughts;

and in this experiment I've been caught within

your grasp; whose other end will bind

me in and hold me within bounds; whose other

transcendent flowers will enrapture me so?

Look where we are heading and I will; entrust you

with the sentiments of my desirous deeds;

you come to me and I in you abide by what you

show of yourself; and how I will incite the fire

deep within myself;

You dig and I surrender, you grip and I loosen,

what out of bounds playthings these feelings are;

yet they do not subside; and here, I will endure

the fate of envy; and in it I will capture

the end of my reduction.

When the music plays, and I surrender to your song;

in grips and thrusts, the echoes of our desires,

we play a tune the others cannot hear; we play in

ecstasy amidst our inner fears.

We die a death and sing of birth's renewal in our

phrase; and into the waters, we dive and find our

music; we lie in waking thoughts at night, dreaming

of its arrival; the unbecoming irridescent light;

and in our phrase, once more to our unloosening of

straps, we beckon in the redemption of our selves;

And in this song, we usher in tomorrow's unsteady state.

With this explosive sound I feel within me,

as though the night's aflame and all is burning,

you've navigated well, my dear; and all of mine

is at your sole disposal; each bitter teardrop,

beckoning you come.

Without your calling, without the doubt of your

surrender to my arms; and without form, I blaze

in your becoming; come to me, ghost, forever

hold me in your grasp; and take me to the sea;

Drown me in your bosom, by the sea.

I drown.

You drown me.

And when the waves subside, and all is calm;

I find you in my arms with unremembered text;

nothing haunts the night, but I grasp at

shadows and I move through them still;

Next to you; in bed with arms around you,

I find the calming peace I've been denied.

The stabbing ofdesire flees, momentarily;

leaving room for this dull and achey form of love.

The wailing moon collides with daylight's

spring; and when I find you in your place

among the fading stars, I let them go,

and when the world we've built turns dark;

grasping onto memories turns bitter cold.

So then I reach again into the midst of you;

to our between, and hold onto this flow,

with strokes of my remembrances I swim out

to your form in the waters; not letting go,

not fading you into the loss of memory.

While water thins,

while dalight dims,

and in the anger

growing through my pain,

I throw a net into the sun,

and whisper your name again.

The unwritten code; buried beneath the ashes

of my mind, rent in two and put aside without

a thought for consequences; it is the slow moon

calling me tonight, and I answer every drop

of milk secreted.

And when the devouring comes I will be.

And when you come into my mind I'll let

them know; and when all the world fades

it won't matter; because I'll rest upon

the dissonance of desire's sharp edge.

The sweet subdual as I glide upon the

waters of your face; and pour my gaze

out into your deep eyes; the flesh

subsides and there I meet the soul of

you; and drown within your pools and

their reflections;

The water's edge.

And if your gaze speaks truth, there is

a semblance of a mark you've left on me;

now within my mind's edge that completes

the shallowness of my desire's stalking;

them emptiness of dreams gone unfulfilled.

Poison in the bloodflow, and you begin to seep

into the mind; unwilling, unwanted; and there

will you abide; sour taste and supple skin survived;

within these walls of jelly coated flesh;

Caves collapse at the moment of our meeting;

brick by brick and stone clash against gravity's

rebound; but as I watch and you wait in your

wonder; I will leave you; I will let the lightning

go; and in this earthen fray, we'll be alone.

Into the sea,

where guidance comes in flashes from the night;

into the sea,

with wishes on demand,

I drink the waters of your ocean into me,

into the sea, with shallow arms I swim.

And into me,

you drown in pools of glass;

where I arouse the sins within your schism'd heart;

and drown you further; through a moment's drop.

Into the sea, with open arms felt foul;

And when we clash upon each other's shores,

no waters will remain between our bodies,

our sands will shift,

and mountains break to pieces;

upon the lands below us;

through the night.

I can eat my fill of your entitlement;

and draw in enough to please the good god;

what's wanting to become your night's

apprentice, she is the inner song I sing thee;

Of fleeting fates disrupted by a storm,

of vast corruption pinned upon the saviour's

sword; of truth or dare, in friction with

our past; and vile addiction; cross-contamination,

against a vissive imagination.

I sing a song to myself; and when I walk the line,

there you are in blessed form, surrendering;

and when I call your name, you will be watching,

to breathe the life in me that has departed.

I draw in the sand, a face by which to remember you,

and scratch the surface of my bleeding mind too;

we drift apart, again; and so I fashion it anew,

and let the inner demons drift into scarcity.

Come one, come all; come into me.

Let these harbor; let them swell in you.

We wield the stormy sea's misguided song;

unto the distant fog, with all lost memory;

and characters made new of sand and stone;

to where the frostbit deer and lions howling

with escape's delusion could abide,

for time and time's again entrusted to

the sands and wind; for fear it's not

a god's mistrusting eye.

A divergence song; withered and weathered;

dithered and darkened to which we are

accustomed; I write this one for my sole

purpose; to cause a strike to blow between;

and in the middle

call retreat.

From the pursuing end.

It introduces nothing new; into the pool.

And yet I strive to dive deeper; well deeper,

until I've breached the surface of the mind;

and come clean, through your waters yet again;

And so I dive.

Into those deep eyes of yours,

and shudder;

hastening for breath.

This is the fast recovery,

and then the slow intoxication,

to recollect my longings I have held.

Reduced to nothing by the daze of entanglement;

watching every phase, rip apart the flesh;

and make me crazy; add on how this incessant spin,

creeps along; without reverting to its last state.

Entrusting you in your alluring nest; how hot

we swell, how much we can assume; spent in

the long hours beneath the moon; cold and

lonely without food or rhythm to be had;

just the lulling of the ocean tide.

And smooth sailing, without a thought to be had.

The calm wind settles at my brow; where are you

now, in this diluted plane? And I succumb to sleep's

enticement; I drift and turn, I beg; the pool to

fill with our encumbered lust;

Turn, to turn the faucet and to gaze into; to

trust another moment of escape.

To dress in fire, and bleed out pain; to creep

beneath the sheets of your desirous flames.

Into where the wind does not blow; any longer

fate would have her way with me, and into where

the sky cannot claim sovereignty; to belch

the fiery flames throughout this cavern.

A dried pot; opened wide with edges reaching out,

and no sky for which to hold the smoke; we breathe

in ashes;

And you, my goddess of the fires;

dress me warm within your skirt of flame;

hold up my head, let me surrender to your name,

Drench me,

with your boiling stew;

End this game.

Self-assessment; binding in my time;

blood runs thin and pours upon my lies;

they stain the shallow sheets of my

descriptive pages;

And where are you, coloring in the dark;

can't you see, when I resume the song,

your presence here,

will help defeat the lurking demons

of my mind.

So into you, I'll dive; once more

for fascination's sake, and sake alone,

to dwell within your mouth as it moves

me into you.

What more needs said; until this life has

bled and passed into another fume of air;

while waiting for your intensity to arise;

I watch and wade with gulls above, I caper

and with cottons, stew up and hem and sew;

What matters in this lengthy prose; for

foreigners, I do not know; but within

your eyes I've been less shy than with

anyone on earth. So I will stay and

dance the night; and in the interim,

will sew a garment for them to tear apart.

And you can caw, deep into the night;

and I will hear each piercing sound as it resounds;

let me be your board, to understand what makes you

move, beneath those skirts; and shepherd in your

innocent remainder.

Decide what good can come of this; what

ancient melodies may move and swim,

then try, without regret to let them come.

Drowning out my passion's reserve,

letting come what may, and its entire swing;

to trodden out reality's main nerve;

Sever and succumb to passion's play.

Below where what was mine is now concealed;

into blue ocean; paling as we descend,

your lips holding onto the drain of time;

and far out, waves the door to shelter;

We passed them in our bitter tears of irony,

blown out windows; blood, and all its counterpart.

Peruse what you've abandoned and rejected

through my loss of consciousness; dejected

and refused internal ticking; the clock

strikes down each moment.

Death in favor of interjection.

Time is wasted on me;

it's all a blur.

Severed motion set in sin,

a mountain to climb to the top,

a divide.

To conquer the depths of passion,

to endure, and to succumb to desire.

Lost in thought, in motion, and in dream;

echoes and fantasy endure; I cradle space,

as if it were my own; but only you

keep me hanging onto threads of my foundation.

Disheartening words; frayed in isolation;

And then I watch you die a hundred deaths

and sing again their pain; life dissipates,

without a hint of poetic power to the breaths

you take into your lungs. Lonely eyes,

dimmed without retreat from her denials.

Sands shift and absolute lies deserted;

yet empowered through the facts at her

disposal; she seeks and finds; produces

an heir for her small kingdom; regardless

of the weathered nights she's worn,

she's sworn to dedicate her realm to--

Defeat of cause; disease of death's

premonition; she bids me watch and enthralled;

I sleep and dream her irresolute encampment

shrill voices pressed thin; harpoon

cross we burn at the last supper; her nails

sink;;;;;;;;;;

dis-ease drowns me in the thick of her recovery.

Within the world you live, your fleshy life;

I give you a commandment to undo those

memories acquired; for to enclose our spaces

within these unreal realms and to commune.

Entrapped within the world I live, my fleshy

life; and I cannot undo these earthen bonds;

I will attempt a seclusive withdrawal of myself

and to my desires give a hearty dose of madness.

Wherewith we drown each other; wherewith we

sooth ourselves; in isolatory speech and art's

refinement; I drive the knife, and you the dagger;

and our denial screams of ecstasy.

Strong and plenty of them to keep in contemplation;

we'll spend hours bending out to break their moulds;

and where they bend not, we can keep; straights to

lay down for the railroad way;

A catapulted summer in full bloom.

Differences lie in negotiation; and when her heart

is wax I will surely melt it bit by bit; until

the scream that claims a life; then close my

wounding doors and hope it's not too late

to turn back time.

In the parity of age;

when all else fails to hold a candle straight;

and screaming commences, there is still light,

and it burns through the seasons' still dead

waters fall.

I drive the knife and pour out what little

I have collected into your pool,

driving deeper still for some surviving part;

to redeem this broken parody of youth.

Love's not lost on you; just in slumber,

and you'll awaken it with breathing and the night's

sweet dreaming tide.

An insintuated form; no anger's hold can grip

the now repulsive void; and I in anguish

consume the darker parts of myself, for her;

to trust in foul weather, to treat myself

to an hourly service to revolt; into the

wind's bending.

Right night; it rains, and my collapse sings

I hear the hawks and delve within my bag

of tricks for something to respond with;

her shine, her present form is not repulsive;

but with her shadow falls a large disharmony.

We cannot contemplate beyond our grasp;

and so the song begins;

Intrinsic longings of the style,

she once had given me a taste and

in this dream I've fashioned more

to test the waters of my faith;

and drip the spoon's redemptive vine

into me eyes, to see how she had

been, one last time;

And now I leave the waters of my

recollection; and now my taste

is held with bitter memory;

a shroud of it enclosed upon

the pupils of my mind; a shroud

without clearing to subside.

Formulated structure; hard hands hitting

in all the right spots to make it bleed;

delicate eyes with a throat wide open for

the screaming, it is pain, it is love;

it is a testimony of our violence.

Realizing I had no other choice to say

but words cohere; and distinct sounds

resound and echo through the mind;

no more unbearable days of growing colder,

no more mice or men to drown each

other in their fabricated delicacy;

no more meandering.

I want to find a plank to shift

my thoughts into; to drown out

the chaos; but there is none to

jump from; this heightened reality

surrenders to a film of vegetation

and of doves, playing on the streets.

Your weary hands concoct a structure that allures

and I can form one of my own; to dream of another;

let this go, let it pass and we can save us from

forgotten droning ons; past tense scrawlings and

scrabbles of the night's edge; torn between secrets

unfounded on the earth, unfounded in the sky;

distant isles levened by; the thought of imperception's

dreary watch.

You linger at the edge, and I abide, once watching pain's

untidy mess of meandering through pages of the mind;

It's the long dress; the watchful eye; and I

undone by this rehearsal through the water's fall,

keep coming back to its renewal in the spring.

Keep coming; for your patient hands to hold me.

In gruesome hands; with no redeeming value;

with untouched thoughts and lessening

divide; I watch the wailing shadows claim

the drifting tide; and you, dissipating

through the mists of time;

I want to hold you in, and devour you

in part and part again; these pieces

of a dream, these sour melodies of mind,

Drove me older and the days grow;

lessening the pain and greying out

the hold you had before; it dims,

all the world dims before my head can

clear away; clear away the empty

calling of the grey disrupted sky.

In playing with the dark night,

and with the demons which may come;

destructive ends; and only a means

to resurrection in the fire;

We bloom again; into tomorrow's pace,

lightening the truth of our reflections;

You blossom as I come into your fold;

each weary tear holds several insurmountable

desires;

We bleed into each other and grow cold

with age, with arms dead; without a sound.

Without your eyes to bleed into;

and in the darkness stumble, my life

subsides and wanders; through this

errand's passing I will come of age;

time's cold hands drop and then again;

We are the peace keepers, drowning out

our hands in sorrowful array; letting go

the leftover requiem; holding in our

benefactor's pay; we stomp and sometimes

soar, but now I sit and fester at the

gate's entrance; without care, without

a dry place to creep inside of;

You walk and you inquire;

while I sit and dream of eskimos;

someday we'll rise again together,

but not this hour.

In this entropic wind, wherein I bind myself

has climbed to, claimed enough of my isolation;

dressed in time, I fly with you and in your

dire anticipation let through the sieve

of our screaming; out the mire,

Into harmony's desirous edge; and into the

basking revolt of generations, climbing.

Higher with each step; until the world seems

full of us; higher with each movement of

transcendence; in escapade; in gratuitous

remains of each our grip.

Realizing nothing new has taken us; with the

false realization that you are here within

my grasp; within each kiss, I seem to have

lost hold of you.

With each interpretation of each other's

collective whole; with each insipid touch;

and then you purge the inner fountain of

the bed's desired edge; and in each blatant

crowning of the newborn king; I hold you,

laughing at your armed memorabilia;

draping flowers across the steps leading

into the fold of your attire;

And into cushions; I fold; into your hold,

where cool collections of the blood pool

and seduce; where bodies bloat, where skins

are hung and dried; and long nights

beneath the stars are filled with flies;

Seduce me, and enrapture me in your eyes.

Each filtered purge collapses and regroups;

the bugs fly in, to fill the bitter emptiness,

foul beings from the depths of unconsciousness,

and dreary words seep.

Sing to me,

a lullaby of sleep's denial;

sing to me,

in each absconded sentence;

of your alchemy's charms;

read to me in withered hands

of ecstasy's denial; and in dream,

purge the collapsing winter's chasm.

Love's sweet grasp you'll hinder me in at last.

I love the way we purge ourselves,

in incompleteness stain the dress,

I drive you through and run with what

the little bellows have befallen to.

What rise and then ascend some more,

to heaven's gate and drop.

We ride these wheels as magistrates,

collapsing on the floor; collapsing

on the pink, red ribboned rug;

Where I succumb to your lusty, frothy

foam. And sink my teeth into your neck;

each bit a limerick; untitled and infused

with shades of red.

We flock to distinct separation,

each aim forgetting of the last,

our purging paradises and our

love's last grasp; we flock and

we subsume our various themes;

Mine rocking you to sleep.

Destination's grasp come incomplete,

I dry the wetness walking underneath

with smiles I've not felt, with teeth

that no longer grind upon the bedside's

wooden post. I fly in incomplete circles,

not knowing which direction for to land;

Underneath you, in the bed of my destruction,

I climb the ladder wanting it to end.

At destruction's final edge;

wherein I see the human face;

her face as if it were a mirror of my own,

And dried up in three pieces of shattered

film and glass and earth; I keep them

close and hold my middle ground beneath

which I can hear the voices of the dead;

These lenses dropped and broken into shards,

recovery has lost her golden charms.

You walk the cold, departed realm of my forgotten

thoughts; and so I seek you out again to call

your name into the darkness. Of my bleeding mind.

Hear me, and cackle on the wind; blow your face

into my memory's spires; Again hold up your flame

and let the wax drip in; reclaim the sore spot

that opens up for only you. Respirate; and howl.

Her struggle lies within my mind's only misery,

her shielded cables lighten to the music within;

her mellow, open mind reminds me of our dissonant

correspondence; reminds me of a throughput

that has long since dissipated. Errand, resume.

Ditch in time; fascinated wasteland; end of all.

Impacted on a bed of dark dreams,

coalescing in the flames of desire,

rotten fruit feasted and fed to a wolf's

uninterrupted synchronicity,

and I'm dying for a way out,

I'm howling to the sun and moon,

I'm dying for a way out, but I can't

see the light.

When the distance closes in,

and the sun begins to burn,

years go by me and I still can't

see your face, and every motion

I make puts me back three steps;

in the closet of my mind,

I'll make this memory my own.

in tears I tell my malady,

with highlights on a cross-tipped pen,

and doubt's untroubled district

entraps a fleeting vein, on tap,

a drink of fluid feeling, a drink

and doubled for the sink to swell,

can take the love as poured.

Pointing at the stars,

her shadow slips and turns,

when through my winding thoughts,

I'm m bent, persuaded, adrift in

snowfall, lips fall open and her system

bleeds the resistance to my will;

In shadow, again dispersed I sing,

of hollow representational sporadic

systematic sounds, poison in your ears,

I call a hook to end the line's resonance,

cut loose her resounding line. Let Paris

burn.

Whenever you retire into your bed;

and are transcended into what you were before

the dewdrops hit the blades of grass;

I adore what you had been before;

but into gold you work your web;

in the shades of a hundred moons and

all their mystic motions of the planets;

I will resume to call you;

and reserve the right to knock

upon your door.

Where mountains frozen canopy

was avalanched; the blades drew in

your dropping milk; the dew; the dew;

The dew; respirating beneath a canopy of sin.

The bombs drop;

and this exploding night occurs;

with feverish excitement.

Throughout the purging, it occurs

to me there is a motion of the wind;

and it is howling with your name,

attached upon it; pour yourself over me,

dripping dots of glue and sapphire paint,

resplendent isolatory shards, you moon;

you transparent sea; purge yourself over me.

As I've received, so grant to her the essence;

of my longing, perceive the nature within my

hand and salute; withhold nothing from her of

what belongs to me; oh, demons of the night fog.

Pursue our holding cell and cast the chains

beneath my feet; rest in dread and darkness

overcome me; I will respond with an other

broken blissful night when two of them

receive this swollen pill; so, seduce me;

Crave in me what lingers of my blood;

entice the open wounds which you have bitten;

swear the loyalty which had forgotten your

amusements.

It sears the skin; and into blood drives pain;

through bone and into ash the body falls.

A death by denial of sin.

Through bursts of flame, the rock sets in

obsidian scours my shame; I drive the blade

between myself and her. It sits upon the divide.

Our title settles down, and crumbs cake;

dissolved irridescent reflections make,

pools of neon through the dark,

devoured by the lightning, I stand so

close to you; without a wind to wash

this pavement off, I follow you in the

morning dew; springs heaven's light

surrender if we were watching. But we

aren't watching save to grace discomfort

from the foul disrupted silence.

Power wheels, power wheels, how fast can you

destroy the earth; when the clock strikes 2

and all the world is waiting for a drink;

let's abandon.

The dying phase; and if we succumb,

what will become of us?

human trade; we buy and sell ourselves

for a profit in the margins; it can't

produce organic flow of idea; straight

and narrow; specifically tailored

transpiration; and we descend;

it is a transmutation of planes,

and sparks, and little bits of iron;

drummed catastrophies; pounding out

the work into clearly marked moulds

of human consciousness; a simple cut.

The two tides; issuing as if they were run amok;

in small silences, colliding with the moon's

course; colliding with our heart's collective

unconsciousness. And when the planes drop their

bombs upon our hastened fallout shelter;

We'll dry up in the death of our belonging.

Fortune's fate and the necessary gait of

crawling under belly to the whale; and when

it asks us to repent and there's no other

to hold us back from our denied returns;

We wash up in the current, we drown and bleed.

The clouds are clearing up, the sky is coming out;

the mountains breaking ice between their fingers;

it is a cold summer day, and we can blow off

each other's arms to keep us company.

While the ice stirs; let us languish in the sun,

for fortune's small resurrecting curse;

we'll bleed like fallen angels in the murk;

and bless each other's forms for our devourment.

Dried like pines cut off from any source

of water; we will burn in the hellfire;

we can sing a song denouncing gods and demons.

In night's fluid eye;

when the sun goes down,

and there is left but

open hands and emptiness;

When in the sky blooms

dots of light so thin,

yet so powerful a puncture;

through the fabric of

our canopy;

and gods sleep; angels do not

make a sound; and there is nothing

in the distance but our own

internal ticking; when gods sleep;

And the sun divides the day from us.

While I was awake; and no sounds pounded

through my eardrums; nothing collapsed from

what we'd shaken in our sleep, when dream

collided with reality, and the manic thoughts

abounded without the reason I had come now

to collect;

Yet now I sleep in distant fantasy; foretold

by your decision; unkept and lucky numbers

they resided in my crates; you've left the

coup doors open; my dear.

Drown me out for fear of letting loose; desire.

And when into the storm we fray;

and split, into the storm our ends;

With mouths of peeling thunder and

commit ourselves against this unseen

force of nature; She harpoons my

body down through flesh and broken

bone; and ice flows through the wound,

and blood pours out; I cradle my

conceptual denial of existence;

setting free the chains of my demise;

To an end, to the end; what will be

will be, and in the end; we'll not know

what our existence had foretold.

You rang;

and in this festering storm, I had required blood;

for purchase at the price of your desire; and of pain,

sweetly drifting in upon the wind again; its stain,

protruding from the cloth of our transgressive tears,

and we wept for years until the residue receded.

It's painful memory, transpiring in a cloud;

and all progressive rain and spouting sun;

a dried up flower, raining petals to the ground;

it is desire in a couch bed; seeking ground.

And I would tear off its wings, if given chance's

moment to adhere them to my back and let me fly.

I dance the serpent's surrender; dance the creed,

and nestled in your arms; I sing the siren's song

with you, and when we wail; and when we choke our

voices out upon the water's edge; the blood stops,

and thoughts and fever then congealed upon our face,

Marked time; a resolute embrace; courage going

south to our encampment; we liken our selves to

little mice, and merry men; such merriment;

we sieve the old gates into new constructions,

and plead the fire; with the ice to our instruction,

Claim the old, dead gods as our saviors and

the resurrection of a new moon's mind; we sieve

ourselves in destiny's desire.

It feeds my fears of death; and you my driving

force to look upon in her enhancements; she

dives into the pool of our lust, drowning me in

purple fire; And when the shades of grey collapse,

and summer sets her sun; I watch us burning in

the pool's enticing dance; burning with our passions,

and in each other's arms engaged in succulent affairs;

We wash each other's skin and bleed our pains,

and suck on wounds to deep to ever heal again,

I cannot fear this death any longer;

for the hour comes, and it is beckoning

a requirement of blood will not suffice;

it is the soul's entrapment to see the other side.

Out with the entire; for corruption's song begun;

the dismal hour of youth's forgotten phrase;

It ended without reason or a thought to fight

away the aging of the mind; And we descend through

cobwebs, and we descend through stains pressed in,

and we descend on wings of hells insignia;

How destructive this collective grinding stone;

can be within the constraints of our reality's

skin and bone concrete mass; What world is this;

what hour have we come to; to take a part

in this our blinding mass?

Heaven is filled and hell has loosed its bonds;

and all the angels come to war, without doubt

to die; for gods have landed someplace close;

have taken up their arms; and as we shelter ourselves

from the requiem of saints; into desire's

loving arms; into desire's loving arms; into

desire's loving arms, we flee from our enslavement.

It is Satan's song; reduced to insanity's rave;

like a lunatic; I scream throughout with pain and

ecstasy; the realization that nothing can undo;

desire's inflammatory purge; and all hastens

to refuse the throne, and the one who sat upon it;

and to the lamb of gods, christ's esoteric name;

we unstrap these bonds and tighten our own names;

into our chests we burn and scour our own fitness

for the flames. We rage on in insanity's delirium;

praying to the gods of nothing; to reality's irate

renewal;

Heaven sends forth messengers to the asylum;

demonic plagues bent for my own purging;

and when they come upon the mind, it's my

desire; to shirk them off and scour them in

their own promises of death.

You are debased, my love;

without your skin to hold your face;

or even thoughts come rambling through

the wires of your brain; I should collect

the trinkets of your fleshy layers;

sever sweetly their transparent inspiration;

While you and I come clashing through our

sophisticated departure from the sun's

illusive gaze; I properly reduce you to

an atom's glory; and if the moon were to

collapse down into the earth's uneven spin;

I'd wrap you up and tell you softly to

renew my faith in gravity; I'd set the sun

alight again with your seductive sin.

On your arrival; I propose that you encompass

all my flame; and then be quick, subdue what

you have gained; as if this strategy of fire's

claiming had renewed our faith in gods demise;

and severed all the essence of their turning

phases of the planets; in you I will be suffering

tonight in the dark hour when I shall dream.

Collapse my suns, and daughter's hopeless sighs

release your twisting hour upon the stars; tonight

we'll free desire's loving kiss; and I in you

be parted from the mist of my collective sins;

I'll traverse the bleeding scars within.

Reaching down into the waters of her sinning pool;

unfortunate for dress, there's no rehearsed immersion,

just a fully forced transcription of our sins; stamped

out upon the dealings with our destiny; and all

requirements are shamed and severed from the

winds which hold us up; life's blood in secret corners

of the world, reduced to tears and ashes for the fall.

Love's luxury, in an entire eavesdropping one hears,

unseemly songs of a dissonant nature; left for

frothing and foaming rabid dogs to break the wills;

it's dream, it's destiny; it's the fugue playing.

Unpoisoned and pure; your throat sings,

and I adore your song; its bitter taste acquired,

the life you've led me into; and in the night's

deep descent from daylight's calling, I fall down

upon my back as you devour me.

With lips succinct to hold their tongue in;

dried flavor coming from your fingertips;

and the waters of your pool transfix my longing

eyes, as I await conclusion's simple song;

the bitterness of your exotic arms; holding

me within your enchanting gaze; I fade,

as you devour me. As you slide beneath my

skin and intoxicate me with your wiles.

I lost you in the shadows of interpretive cognition;

caressed myself to the rhythm of your beating heart,

and when we coalesced as angels; I drove the

dagger deep into my skin; overarching themes of

our required separation; into nothingness.

And we rebelled; each against the other;

severing the bond of our affection's simple

skin; blearying the dress of our cognitive

endowments; hurrying the past into this hour.

And so we sit again in the requiem of sin's

enticing flame; holding candles to the sentiments

of saints; uncovered with the stains of our remains.

An irregular beating and the blood flows;

through swollen veins you've blessed with

your corruption; and here I lie, at the vanishing

point of my dispersion; come clean and poison

me with your rehearsed acquittal.

Do not deny the ecstasy, my untamed lover;

or bury in the darkness your transgressive nature;

love me with your whole and tender skin,

carry me upon your throne and sacrifice me;

to the demons living in our bed of nails.

In contempt and held for isolation's cellular

attire; irresolute dreams and destitution's

lighted fist; she drinks me in and swallows,

and the words come incomplete without

her bed, without her love, or her insignia;

She dresses for the rehearsal of our wedding;

and I, trapped beneath her whims and her

desires am settled down; ignited with a flame

that burns as nothing in this world does;

settled and spread out before the flame of

her transgressions; spread out upon her

bed as one reducing life into the pool; spread

out and thinly puddled and subdued.

Our white walls; without which stain salutes;

her doors open and the water spills; and so

the sun her bitter season strives to make a

perfect stain upon our arrival.

Our arousal makes the pointed curve which we've

been wandering; and as the globe turns we forget

ourselves within each other's poisoned hands;

lights dim down and there's a voice upon the wind,

speaking loudly as the fever settles in.

Good graces wheel another prisoner in;

but we're transfixed upon each other's

satin shine; reduced to ash and wine.

In this desolate room,

where eyes compete and hearts to sting;

and compassion's king sleeps heavily;

another breathes, so heavily to drown out my

tomorrow's bleeding edge; her face transpires

along the press of pages, and in the letting of her

sorrow I press words..

Forget the dawn and all the simple songs; forget

the mocking melody of hushed ensembles; just

plead with me that God requires his covenant;

to take our blood in sin's expelled surrender.

You walk in shades; believed you'd faded;

instead, you're holding court with another king;

and in the central ballad of the film; I find you

stalking me.

What is central to the survival of the race,

doesn't center around me; my life; my

misfortunes and mistakes keep undulating,

waiting for some judgment to arrive;

to hit the calm peace of death.

It is my comfort and my sustaining sin;

you suckle me in this permanence of longevity;

when wounds have sunken in so deeply through

the flesh's vital place, and no more comfort

claims my stoic silence; you come crashing in.

With love in this divining hour; dividing footprints

from the sands of time; coalescing with remembered

rhyme; so new and yet seemingly old in its

cycle. Come free of this tethered sin's locked passage;

renew the part of me you touch with weeping,

bring the bottle and a flask for you.

I'm so glad I married you.

I need your stability.

When walking the clear blue night;

with all its charms and its blue diamonds;

wouldn't you have seen a way to muster,

wouldn't you have seen a way to will one's

safety from the banks of this blue river?

Deeply blue, deeply indebted for no one's

prosperity; deeply to you, the deepest kiss;

I've known; and for this sprinkling rain,

and for the shed of tears and for the twisting

fingers in a darkened room;

No one will call until the axe fall,

and then they'll bleed out your name,

with sorrow and regret.

Into the black and white perspiration;

each drop more bittersweet than the last;

and closing my eyes; and dreaming, I feel

nothing more of lack of sleep or its denial,

I squeeze the handle, one more drop of life blood;

shattering a moment's passing in the dark,

And while I rise and I command myself;

nothing comes of wanting or of waiting;

just the slog through waking dream or her denial,

and all has passed, and all will raise the flags

of purchase; nothing can come clean, anymore.

Determined;

with the ferocity of fear, and night's unbecoming

sacrificial ear; no longer waiting and watching

in the dim moon; but ravashing and raving like

mad men, lurking through the wood; judging nothing;

not time or space; nor anything that moves as

redeemable;

Love me,

this is the quality of our redemption; this is

the soothing to the flames at our disposal;

dried and wet, cold captivated flames; burning

everything within her path; she suctions at

the twisted and distorting dawn; she burns

her light; as was shown. Serve her and have it

done;

This is the face of our beloved; lying in the snow.

Without god;

without the demons haunting my existence;

Without the pain I go through;

suffering each day in isolation,

Enter in the migratory beast;

so solemn in his unfolded wings;

so serene. His fantasy untold,

a foreigner without the room or care

for transient speech; my own niche

of reality foretold within the curvature

in his palms; my future and my past

provided. Let me sing to his death,

let me sing a hymnal to his resurrection.

In my words;

a space like any other free-form;

where cooling towers collapse and

fire becomes the status quo; in my

words where happily ever after mixes

with death and hell's angelic destruction,

in my words.

Plastered on the walls of my regretful

scoreboard; feasting after all the dinner's

been assumed; co-mingling with myself beyond

the hour of our sleep; and screaming along

to death's symphonic plague; I rearrange my

words, and place what is above to what lies

beneath me; scour off the pleasing ceremonial

sins; and to my lover last, I plant a melody

of sorts; among the words, sweet words;

of my destruction and resuscitation.

Its swoon and recede; the false plague

of paramount impression; and it gives,

but does not take back the promises it

has given; in my eye, a pressure point

of promise and renewal; but I can't find

the place to pick away the scab from.

And she places there her falsehoods;

and in the etchings she exchanges all

her vows; my life is her undoing now,

between the sheets of envious endow.

And her voice presses inwards; and up

against the stain of my contrivance;

to tear apart the seams of my departure.

The sand sculptures remind me of a carriage

you once led; and the fiery hot sun we left

him in; to die and fall to pieces without a

future to be had; to hold onto something of

our own pasts;

We cry, in shame we suckle on our comfort foods;

we dry up, but do not die; we waver and wander

in the hot sun; without the boy to table our

misunderstood songs of peaceful drought ;

And servants come and go; people too; and

beasts; what wallowing allows is done, what

the weary bodies do, is done; and all bleeds

into corruption; all this dismal drowning

leads to nothing; and where do all the prayers

go; when god is dead and the flame burns low?

Into the sea; into the ashes; into the mud.

A much more simplistic state; simmering with

the fire of our ancestors; & on the plate

a breathing body for us to sacrifice; her

head, and her arms pinned by the body's own

declining time and light; and within,

burning slowly is the temperance and wind

of our survival.

Slow and steady state; craving the lowly

needs of few; belly distended in her youth,

and she feeds slowly, feeding us with our

devouring speed; and light trapped within

her soul, she breathes to create a space;

within to flow.

We ebb and flow with the tide; and the tide

sings strong tonight; so in your arms,

when the heart beats faster and the surf

grows; will you poison me and sting my

weary thoughts; and haunt my dreams the way

we used to do; sting me off to sleep,

and when the rising tide pulls me in,

be on top of me; sweetly kissing me,

dragging me under with you.

Or when the dark wall steps up and shows

the moon, with wind across my face and

heirloom freckles patching up your vision

in the night; sing low, and quiet;

whisper in the midnight air; so suddenly

that your voice rings in the rain;

tempered by the dropping of our purchase,

dropping in the cold, and distant past.

While we are gutted from within; and all our

peace turns diarrhetic; and angel's wounds

rebound without our sorrow or our glee;

and feces comes beneath our canopy like rain;

With open arms, you offer shelter from this

pain and I succumb again to your indulgent sins;

and as we flow beneath the stain of our belonging,

you redeem what's left of me and don't hold back

your breathing and your kisses; and I swoon,

Solidly kept within the confines you have

betrothed me in. And in this tent I purge out

my remaining strains of hurt.

Backpedaling through time's contorted stream;

without the possibility of raising up the dead;

I sink and flounder through; I call upon your face,

and there you are, before me, and before after;

What the cat dragged in, is full of stains;

is full of long nights pleading our survival,

and in it; a restlessness and a surrender to--

One drop in time, another swerved and pelted,

dragged through mud and its surrounding swine,

to be trampled; to be fed to;; and you

collect these fragments, these broken parts of me;

and you dissect, seduce; and intoxicate me;;

And I succumb.

I am my own bringer of death;

And in this self-destructive mire I will

reap my soul unto its final living word;

and in this fantasy of your required faith,

I bring my own blanket for which to sin upon.

Hear the quiet wind, it will echo; my pain

and my destiny. And on this towel I sit

without the pain of my lost innocence;

to drag me down into a bed of heated iron

nails; and I will sing my final song

throughout the night; lost from ecstasy's denial.

And we complain about the worth of our recovery;

and we stint ourselves our complaints; and we

breach the stars' alignments and facet our own

heaven; without bounds, regrets, or tears;

And when we die; our deaths are meaningless,

as if fate had some cruel sign of rejection;

and we transpire into the depths of hell,

where all the other souls have gone to rest;

And there we sleep, untransformed; disaligned

fragments of the night's blurry arms.

When the sky falls; and everything has turned

to ash and flame; in this bout of destruction,

tell me who can be saved; and with our passion

up in flames at the hour of requirement, and we,

burning in our own desired sins. What will

remain of decency and what will remain of shame?

Four hours in, and the requiem of angels at its

end; four hours of self-destructive surgery at its

own; and of our hallucinatory fix; what will happen

to the remainder of our decency and shame?

It is shredded complication dusted on the wind.

Hear my muse;

with her company of angels in the darkness;

and her required song imbued with ecstasy;

how steady our fall into the night; how complete

the night surrounds us in our departure from the real,

And courage carves a notch into our dressing place;

for our attire hasn't yet been made perfected;

And we contain within the thoughts of our assembled

sins; once bitten and twice the size of Adam & Eve,

We measure ourselves with sticks, broken and beaten

by the same; and our rods are the end to all our claim.

In spite of all the resonance;

I resist your supple call; and as the night

proclaims her majesty on the winds; I shield

my eyes from your delightful mark; but sin

has caught me peeking in the dark of this

ensemble;

So shelter has become a bed;

and into your flesh I've been driven,

from the mark of this destiny to that one;

clearly covered in denial, clearly marked

as stained and unforgiven; clearly handed

over to the slaughterhouse.

And when you drive the axe of your desirous

plea; sink into me, my love; sustain me with

the death I've so desired.

Tomorrow leaves the light on; and in today's

disquieted surrender where I abide; false,

hopes and weary eyes; and to death. Disquieted

surrender when all the earth yawns and tucks

away its parts, leaving no traces of youth,

but only rotten flesh. Disquieted sun, scouring

out the sin of our contentment, committed

within distance to each other;

It is the slow, unsteady pace we meet with

hands tied and with feet on trodden soil,

the slow grip we grasp with to each surrendered

vein, an unforgotten wisp of sin's recovery.

Take me to the vein, to this source of sin.

Moods and minds apart; seeking shelter

from the frost that covers up my death;

slowly seeping into your renewal,

and all pain's loss leaves it an

unrequited love that was denied first

glances of our skin;

Minds and moods together in the night's

transparent song; unsung hymnals to the

love of our death-defying acts of desire;

We want and we take; and what we take

has become the right of us; to seize.

Within this grasp of sin's transparent

song; we'll make love, to spite destiny,

and face our fear of hellfire tonight;

in this suffering wind that doesn't sing.

Fashioned in the fires of a second life;

born on the wind of our betrayed ascendance,

and when the ashes fall; and a loving wife's

remittance; as a plea; I do not know to where,

Pseudo science and therapy for psychosis;

drowning out in bills and the licencing of

transparent gods; ever after becomes the story

telling of the saints and the devout; and

fair witness to the ones who watch the news;

Dress me in transparency like god; and drag

me naked through the streets in my attire.

In an old-fashioned room, without the curtains tied;

where you and I say our farewell; and sing in one

another's ears; And tomorrow claims us disappeared,

from one another's lives; we cling onto a distant hope

for renewal of our favorite lullaby;

Sweet lover; in this transparent sun; sweet lover;

dust the feet off, it is done; and when the angels

come to collect us from this earth's abode; let's

reminisce our love again; and conquer its remaining

stain of sin; let's bleed into tomorrow's transparent

sun; and let the dew of heaven reap us in together.

Repeat this line.

And the song comes unraveled; spewing streams of

sound throughout the midnight stream; and we,

beneath our shelter; within our cave and crawling,

let us be, let us be, let us be;

I streamed through every passage; in hopes I'd find,

some other way; to unwind these pages; but I fought

without foundation, there was no key; don't overestimate me.

The dance, the hook, desire;

when these have all paid debts;

we'll sleep alone again, beneath

the towers hanging over our beds.

The record plays; on and on repeating parts,

and in this subtle dance of strings and

brass, requiring my attention; you play.

Chains stroke the inside of my toilet,

and the scuffle of my slippers against

carpet, raising hair; and the low pressure

that I cannot hear, but sense; a sort of

dizziness; and you play.

You play on in memory, and in verse;

caught in loops of feedback noise inside

the brain; and I can't cut you loose.

Unstable obsession; and the patterns of the mind

melting into wax and poured into the moulding;

for little baby dolls, pressed hard; cleaned off

and dyed.

Four little baby dolls;

made of wax,

whom do you pray to?

how do you relax?

when the terrors of the night,

come knocking at your door;

the four little baby dolls,

don't cry.

And so the seeming innocence of youth

is lost on me, is lost on you; and we

can dance our bit of destruction,

into the night, into the wind,

and what does it matter; anymore?

By the sea; collecting.

And in the wash, regretting all our sins;

and in the wash, at odds with one another,

casting nets into the water;

casting away all our innocent reminders

of a life that was not our own; and in

the ocean's mist, remaining tied and bound;

without the means of separation; glued

to one another's self; transparent in the sun.

And I wash your hair with seafoam;

but it won't contain our souls;

they have been cast out from the time,

we made our peace with one another.

And now we dwell in silent screaming;

awaiting for a ship that will not sail,

and scouring all this island's plane

for proof of gods and men.

And with this wind in my face,

and your hand upon my shoulder;

two without trace, without a marking

what we should do or where we come from;

And into the sea we bring ourselves to bear,

and shed the light of who we were before,

I leave the knob turned; and the door wide,

come into me;

And dress with fringes hemmed in;

for you to dance with me, within the

flames tonight; within the flames beneath

the sky and summer storm. Within the rain,

and sleet; tonight; beneath a hidden moon.

Before we turned,

into sour realms where seasoned angels spoke,

to grass and trees and water; before we bled,

and before the chasm churned our souls into

the dust and ashes we now speak from; before

we chose to die; our own deaths.

And in the constance of our lives; the mere

requirement of living; when black and white

plagiarized our youth. In the foul murk of

grey ashes mixed with mud; the forklift severing

us from the almighty wind of nightfall;

and our destructive gaze, loosed upon it.

We seethe and we foresee the dust upon our feet,

the unbecoming wailing pitch we bleed into

night's foray; we see the blanket of youth

gone wild and cast into the shadow of the dead.

Your unwashed hands, across my back and with the

surgical finesse you strike me; one chord's blow

after another; singing me to sleep; and with this

documentary and dramatical affair, burn the lamp

into the bottom of its wick; burned down to the

bottom; and there, a crusted leftover of our longing,

Shed me, like a skin left with no more use;

we shed each other; death can no more hold us in,

she's down beneath me and cold; in the grave,

I've buried you, and you cannot complain.

And the world ends with a single sigh;

no more reason to carry on, no more motivation,

only silence in the night; we die, and what we

do remains.

And indecision claims my control;

to drown me out within your bosom,

or be held; in my contempt and isolation,

drifting on the wind of incompleteness;

All burning up would cease to fire;

and corruption of the soul's desire swarm,

in and take me unprepared; let these

unceased actions swell; let breathing take

its toll and then become; undone and un-

broken bits of charcoal;

Loosen skin, torn apart and from; the severing

of sinew from the bone; all body's functions

ripped. Blood let out;

I need to find the answer to this riddle;

of where we mind our mind when it's riddled

with the thoughts of suicide; death; and love.

We hold together; and our escape is near,

when the winds die; down the settlements,

where incoherent spiders weave their lot;

one thread, after each other in sequence;

and then they die each after another; in

sequence; and we will die each after the

other, in sequence; and the fires consume

our souls; but we hold together with a hope,

that tomorrow be like we had imagined;

And all is peaceful, all is right and as it

should be; and one toe in, after the other

in sequence; one foot after the other, in

sequence; and all should follow. but death

has got no care for sequences like these;

and one may find him watching in the well.

The spider's spun; and climate collapses;

with danger on the run and collective fear

forked at its tongue; we run, into the caves

of the unconscious mind; driveling onward;

And youth begets degrees of separation;

sweetly soured on the tongues of benefactors;

and kings corral the best of our dearly

departed; to do what must be done.

Keep sticky notes beneath your bed; as I will

mine, small post-its with a fairy tale of love's

requited scene; and with the birth of angels

and the demon-king; I will scrap iron pots,

and hoard them under sheets.

I would sell my soul to make it complete,

but the beneficence of youth's forgotten

fantasy, unfolded and devoured by the bedside;

would make it wholly drowned in fire. And

with a cacaphonic growl she would be Queen.

And temptation folds itself inward;

toward my bedside; and there he hastens

to devour what I have left in lying for my wait;

all the days that there are lingering; and I

wanting her hand in my own; she's come again

into my house, into my thoughts and dreams;

and I can't shake her off so easily.

Discontinued medication; for lack of prying,

for lack of seeing what we want instead of

what drives nails into our flesh; piles

of the living dead devouring us in sleep.

I fold within to dreams desirous dreams,

the kind that haunt you in the realization

of what may come if they be made real;

And so I sink; into my bed, and wait the

sea to wash me clean again.

Fits, and starts; and fists;

coming into a transitory spin; and I don't know

which way is up or down, anymore. I sin and my

repentance comes with flavor on the tongue;

my sins in retrospect are curious to contemplate;

This disease, this; hole upon my heart that sings,

with temper of a flame that's burning brightly;

black hole burning; and like the flame it burns up

every cavity and piece of my self; renewed again

to burn up the rest of me and devour it.

So I adhere, momentarily to the angel's call;

to my imagined demons in the night; and they all

whisper one and lonely on my nerves; to temper

my flame and keep it burning.

It burns away; all what was is gone,

and in the fire's edges is our song,

slowly speaking the melodies we'd imagined

there would be; and in this edge,

desire springs anew; what would a never

ending compass encompass; if not the flames,

to burn more brightly than the candles

of our love's transgression; and to sin

completely within each other's arms.

And to you, I watch you drink the foulness

of corruption's blade; eating fire and flame.

To you, if I had love; my heart would bend,

and break; swollen with tomorrow's sin. To you,

I'd give the only thing I have left to give.

But chance would leave you lonely in the end.

And we will play our part; and when the death

toll counts us, there will be blood upon my hands,

there will be countless crimes committed;

And for my sins, will I be forgiven at the last and

final hour of my breath; and will the song just end,

or keep on playing through the darkness as it has;

To God I pray tonight;

while the storm blows and thunders;

and keep a watch upon me, lest I fall

into the pit again; and there surrender

everything I own;

To keep it clean, and whole;

a treasure to be sieved out,

not forsaken.

This sliding song; of remembrance and fear;

of nothing to gain and everything lost,

I woke up dreaming today; woke up in tears;

and it's been frightful.

Sovereign delights and passers by cheering

in the streets at storm's passing; several

unborn children at their feet; like a carousel

of dolls making rounds throughout the channel

of their fiery tongues.

And a priest by the way, influencing his mother's

gateway into hell; speak to the demons and call

out their names in serious prayer; and when you

say these words, remember; it is your soul that

shoots down like a flaming star, never to be whole

again.

And we bite our tongues, and wrestle with the beast,

and his abandoned offspring; and there we feast on

fire and bread of the resurrection; our host; and anti-

host the blood and body of a virgin sacrifice to

satan or some other devil of the keep.

It burns, and blood comes slowly seeping through

the wound; my head burns; slowly consciousness

regains its strength; my body burns; and every

ache of my retention and my strength surges;

For the aft of my recovery completeness gained,

and when the wind sweeps in again, I shall remain

subconsciously renewed; for now and in the time

hereafter glued into my seat; sucked away from

screaming and the pain of my completeness gained.

And in the dryer; far from home it rings,

cycle complete. And another day held in disarray.

And another day held in isolation and in rage.

The blood comes uncorrupted through the coil,

its heavy stain unloosened by its purity;

and in my dream I see the shadows fall on him,

for each kind word spoken has a center fold;

a place to perch, and tear the seams apart.

Ditches to hide inside of when the torrents

come rushing through; and we can drown a little

faster than the others; bled like death on a dry

day; feasted and forgiven when we sin; it's all

a tempting prophecy of youth's engaged denial;

but when we look upon ourselves in our dismembered

state; we can apologize; and hope for the remainder

to be named a living soul.

Death by promises laid down between lovers.

The seams tie up, the healing words begin;

to take me far into another world; and I succumb

slightly. Drape me in your comforting grip,

and give me what I desire most; for fortune's

stain has had her way; and now I am at loss

of things to pray; in isolation at this moment;

no melody to speak of;

Drape me, in your custody; take me as I bleed;

send out a search and rescue me; and come into

my chamber after dark.

Dry off your shoes and I will let you in;

come singing the tune that I remember of your

voice; I can still hear; remind me what

your face looks like when we're alone;

come;; drape me in your arms forever.

This madness of mind; it comes and goes;

in a flurry of aroused sensations; and it

controls me and my thoughts; brings me down

to hell and death and back to resurrection;

it is a scare, and a soothing comfort,

but which way each regression passes and

there is no time for pure reflection

as the mind is used up in its intoxication.

Burning fever of madness; how hard it hits,

and severs every moment from reality; in my

noxious statements to abroad; and there it is,

my madness is poetic and is made real through

words; and inward I turn and have turned;

to find some semblance of escape, have found it

and denied my own existence into fantasy.

It's just a little rain and a concealed interrogation

of my thoughts; the head bleeds dry and I can't fixate

on one imagination or another; all are purging at once;

So I blow my breath into the muse; and ask her where

she's been all this sweet time,

Sexual desire mutated into dreams and poetry;

She comes and I bleed into her,

pouring out my life blood in a momentary purge.

Enraptured.

What was left of ecstasy remains unbound

and unpurchased; these simple lies of truth

come complicated with the rising of the sun;

and I move within the bounds you had provided,

for me; and my dying light; burning with

a flickering.

Our desires untold and forgotten through the storm;

and what you speak of innocence has born another son;

and when you call to greet me in the hour of heat's

arousal; it dithers and it drowns in a melancholy sea.

Your flame outlasts the centuries; outlasts the sea itself,

but in your rising comes a spark of testimony, and I will

try you in your words, and in your works; I will own

a piece of you before the end; if you be my madness manifest,

I will undo you; and find a hint of sanity of self.

And so it's destiny I pick up the song where

I left off; And cover ground that hasn't been

corrupted, We sieve ourselves and sing in

harmony; some discord carried into the song;

It's been ten years since our requited fantasy

took hold, and deep in breath I hover on the

wind; you comfort me in madness and in health,

I turn aside my feelings of disownership.

We bleed eye to eye.

In the search for angels and demons; when my mind

turned in isolation to the dark plague; and when

it sectioned off the rationality of thought,

Dreams and imagination at its worst;

When all things nightmarish could be true; and this

is what I lived in, some semblance of distorted

reality. And I will again; to live in fear of the

worst things imaginable; and to be denied the best;

for weakness of will and inferiority;

some succumb.

The worth of words; strings of incoherent thought;

sometimes, bleeding into one another, a word;

unspoken in the dark and witnessed momentarily

by the thinker; a word left here or there; some

without intention clearly stated; the worth of words.

And while we wait for our ecstatic song to fill

our lungs; and while we wait for our surrender;

to the darkness of our mind to overcome; it's

sweet enticing season for the blood to seep into;

We laugh at destiny's purview; and at the hand of

god and satan's station; and while these ruses

of the afterlife become an admonition; we drink in

relief with breath of life and without care.

Everything goes its way,

everything succumbs to the final purging,

what that may be, may be; so be it.

The dew drops; suddenly the world comes clear;

And while I watch her eyes surrender to the

whole; it makes me laugh. And I cry out with

pain as the needle sinks in, I lose my mind

again. This pain of not knowing what is real;

And imagination takes its toll;

Her hurricane and my undoing; I fly beneath

the shades of reality's wheel; each breath

the last because I've seen too far ahead of

what I have become.

And I die; the fluids leave my body and I am

burned to ashes; what happens then; more burning

and nothing can stop the flow of fire.

Damnation's grip upon me for the sins I've done.

Your translucent bite, the challenge of a fear

to overcome; there is no destiny of change, only

now and here; what will be will be. And so I

give in to you, what words were spoken in the dark

can stay within; here it is daytime and the spring;

Come out and play; come out, come;

wherever you are; come. And on the incense road I'll

carry you;

We're deep in this defying mist; deep in layers

of surrender to our cause; and we've just broken

skin; the world will walk and we will walk with

them; peeled eyes shut blind.

And then the lost sounds of innocence aroused

in thought resume; And I am playing with my

friends.

It turns to darkness quickly though; who would

think light laughter had enough in me to turn

about; but it claims me yet; this dreariness

of being. What the crow caws out.

This craven heart; craved for the attentions

of the muse, so modern and mundane, to be

depressed.

And she skips a beat; she doesn't open up her

wings of flap them to the rhythm I had seen;

instead she holds herself inwardly to sing

my desolation. My insanity holds; my depression

in the mould; my stain upon survival's foothold.

And the flag for my own house; and the one

for others; planted in the ground. And ownership

sings out; and we can't complain, but in the dry

grass; there is a bleeding and a biting; and they

won't end up the same.

When the world ends; all apocalypse, we won't be

tethered to some unknown horse and riding meekly

through the street; and when the rain comes pounding,

we won't be hiding in our beds, beneath the sheets;

And when salvation comes; our hearts may skip a beat

but then remember; that there is no god, not like

the one imagined by our fathers; and there will be

no mercy for those who strayed or those who spent

their days relaxing by the fire; reading some old

dusty books.

We'll strain to make some sense and find out nothing new.

Purpose evades me, as we grow; and we evolve,

to where is our purpose; where does it lie?

And in contentment, I lie; unfastened from this

meandering of mind; the spirit holds to her;

and she clings.

In destitution and in the tiny sliver of hope

for our humanity; we rise and fall, we take over

and are vanquished; then the music rides along

a wave of silent tears;

The clouds regain their consciousness; they rise

again from mist to make us cold and wet; and we

are watered down with disagreement and with fear;

Let them come.

She moves and sways me; in her white wind,

so subtle and so clearly recognizable her voice.

And I become entranced again, for hers the

voiceless spring; that taps out her revival

on the ice of my cognition;

Once held; once pleading; and then the suffering

silence. But she holds in her hands the key to

make the rain come. And it comes pouring with

the ashes of the dead; and it defeats gravity

and the wind; and it pours down my throat to

where it's been needed. Scouring out the likelihood

of a silent death.

What good is love unquenched by the touch of another?

Her song, her siren's song; and into the death

of one another; or into life's great symphony of decay,

we beat our breasts and bow to death, the master of decision.
To lie was my intent; to keep it secret,

and when the whole affair had gone to pieces,

to devour out the remnants of the memory;

and piece it up within my mind again;

But nothing goes; as planned nothing,

goes as wanting and the fire that was

burning kept resolving to remove me

from my life; and life remains intact;

Unless my motivation moves; unless these

chains surrender to my racking them,

smashing them against the concrete walls;

I will remain astute to this internal

combustion; and watch it slowly consume me.

Inscripted on a tablet, is my lover's alibi;

her severed pairing of the twain; her insurrection;

and when we move through seawater; it splits

apart for movement's happening. And so she

splits apart, no longer to be found as whole;

and moves about my legs and arms; holds me up;

in this unsteady state, but I won't drown.

I float and sink sometimes; dive through her

heart and see a glimpse of love; but when the

water's at the edge and day comes; sun shines,

she is my escape; and in the moonlight, when

I can't sleep for fear of terrors in the night;

she welcomes me with open arms; to swim.

You didn't speak to me at the break of dawn;

but when the lights go dim, I still imagine

your voice inside my head; and it screams to me

in the darkness, saying would have beens and

it pleads with me for making you my own;

And I chime in my mercy call; and recede from

your incessant voices on the wind; and I caress

you only momentarily, while I breathe in my

sour and pervading song; to sing the death of

you; to break the spell you've woven, and to

drive the threads of destiny their way.

All concludes, in the end; with my heart letting

loose discordant notes that play the strings

of harmony's vile nemesis; the plague proper

sits upon her throne, laughing at my misfortune,

and her heart races; and your heart races;

And then the song completes another turn.

Without want; without envy;

without a space to claim.

Seasoned with denial; for the summary,

and in the season's song, remembering her face

upon the clouds; up in the sky, up in the nether;

ever-after world where we had planned our soul's

survival. And she collects the rain of my poured

reason; devours me like water through a drain,

I'm torn to pieces without required pain; for it seasons

the parts which do not feel; and nothing is abandoned,

there is no fight for destiny's survival; we hover and

eat the meat of insubstantiation; and dew will gather;

the gentle mist will rise; and her grip will descend.

Again the rain comes; again the seasons change,

and through it all, love grows weary but not unwanting.

It's closed off to me; and when it's done

she cries out with the voice of her denial,

and speaks to me of all the vacant places

we should go; the dithered rooms between us,

we could share.

And so I find me failing to transpire and

transpose myself; for fear of this regretted

disunion of myself falling to pieces.

And so I plod, without pleading to my transgression;

and my sin. And spin the web I've placed upon myself.

Institutionalized; transmigratory flight; of mind.

While you recede in words; and sink into the black

hole of your own despair; and dress yourself in black

and drink in darkness for a feast; and while you

seeth in anger for a spell, and sink your teeth

into the festering wound upon your heart; I deny.

And there in anguish you lie;

uncomforted and unwanted like a dying moon;

surreal; surrounded without the proper burial

to give us rest. And so we scour the undying

field you've left; and we remove your place.

Never ever wanting you; feats layed up in palms,

and when you rest; and when you drink the final

drop; your last words, remembered in my palm;

and in my song, a respite to remember you.

And to this ascension for which we strive;

with beautious, divine intention;

It suffers ill at the hands of plodding feet,

and migratory pathways of the brain; our

melodic mime; our incantations uttered in the dark,

our mimetic verse.

And to align ourselves with fire or with water,

upon introspection of our feats; undone and done

with clear intent, arrived at some completion;

our moving forward through the sludge of life's

ill will and depraved existence;

To be serene, and to this serendipity collide

one's mind and will; to become clean and pure

and utter in the darkness of a world unwilling

to accept you.

To stifle the stain.

And to regain consciousness and mobility of mind;

though the detrimental parasites press you just

to survive; to ascend, and bend one's will to

heaven's divine intention.

And the machine runs; it picks up steam and moves

throughout our quarters; churning our reality;

and our indecisive state; it moves throughout,

speaking chaos.

And you control her. You divide her time, it isn't

me who necessitates her strokes of genius; and

when the motion blurs and I am running to keep

pace, it isn't me who's stopping the clock and

letting flow reintroduce herself; you're not on

vacation anymore; and there's no way up to madness;

Confined in the presence of an urban signpost.

You know all the ways to make a presentation, and you

show me in your sophisticated style; how it's done.

You move, and your grace sinks in, your willingness to

participate; and your lack of aesthetic evaluation;;

You move the time back, you take the blinders off;

you drive the nails in...

Death's destructive voice;

and our ascension calling on the wind,

It takes two forms, and in this ice-cold awning

where we patch our troubles and begin to sew anew;

we make a shelter for ourselves in our defeat.

Cold wind and enter in the sun in her denied vision

of an ecstasy well worth the admission price. And we pay.

Dither in the sun. Find her essence, pray the night to come undone.

We drench ourselves in fire and in ash; Burn.

Desolatory smoke lies hidden in the flames of our perdition,

let us sing an anthem to the rain; It falls. And splatters

our surviving shelter with its pain. We live, HURRAH!

As sirens go, we are a long way from the shore;

stand and at last let us behave; it's been a long

time standing, since you washed up in the waves;

and I've been drowning out here amongst the waters;

Seven feet below the surface; deep in our transgressive

skins; and we all watched the thunder blow out our

hearing. And when you skirted among the settlers, and

played footsie with the damsels beneath the boards;

and I flaunted your skin and teeth; gnaw and bite.

Memory's interrupted sadnesses; when cold things grow;

and little can do but wait the hour through.

But I watched you whistle, and corral the king; step

softly in the midnight sun. And dress your final purchase

you had won, you had offered yourself as a slave to the

God of Death. And descended from me the way it had begun.

My desired purpose;

And in the dark of this exotic room,

I muse.

Desired pick; prolonged by necessary conclusions

of the space; devoured skin and teeth sunken in;

letting loose all your prolongings; and with it,

soured, a taste without reason. For you.

When in this holy sanctuary, I could claim a certain

soil to make it tame. And with it kiss the sky for I

am god, no longer merely mortal; I've become an

instrument of fate; for picking solo instrumentals

among the seasoned inquiry; And I pick you, my muse

to dance upon the flames of my hell; I pick you,

to prove that what I'm worth is more than just an

ecstasy song for you to enjoy, at you whim and will.

god is dead; and death surrounds us all; god is the living

breath; and we are in recovery. It sends us all mixed

messages from the deepened parts of earth; where we lie

buried in a short time after living.

What worth is life, if not to enjoy the present?

And so we pass tenses; throw them into fire and darken

ourselves to degrees; for the long holiday, coming into

season. The final purge of our conscious memory.

When the doll's pricked; voodoo's semblance

gets beneath the skin; and shines like that

needle in the sun, a forest glade contains

what you have left of me; beneath the shade

inconstituent sparkles left as slivers

in the darkness. You may come, and I into

your shallow waters brew; and leave my stain.

Only it remains.

Through this erotic flare; And far into the next,

I drink my own; and save for you a memory's retaliation;

Breath it in but don't succumb to slavery of mind;

it's mixture sooths and then depletes the offset.

Its high birth brings collection to my fires; a seven

song sung for the mills and to the pidgeons down

below on Seventh and Grand. It's another plague;

and you the pinnacle of my regrets; I sing;;

In my house, beneath these stars and my corruption;

it is I who makes a stake for your insolent heart,

And it breaks skin and bleeds the flesh out.

I am death.

Walk with me a while.

Through plastic stems; as they arrive in lines,

we suck. Bleeding it out through the ends;

And when we move through the mire of this

seemingly endless at times survival; it is a bitter

death. What comes after?

We rise.

We fall into descent to purchase gain. We rise; at

the bitter end of death's demise;

A promise gained, and in forever torment, we arrive;

at this grand interpreted arrival we surmise;

Life is anything but a dream.

And in this last breath before the final purge,

our parasitic signs of life devour one another

like a plague; Hell is all-encompassing.

Life is but another word for the hereafter.

An untitled stain,

ripped away and held at ransom;

this i the way the world turns,

and in its bleeding; we proceed.

Death's toll rings a bell, and you,

you wait and suffer without my touch; and I,

I do the same without you in my grasp; but you

are mine, and I have claimed you from the depths

beneath the sea; the bottom of everything,

Satan's lair;

Don't defy me.

Left in the orchard of our disease; we pick our

fruit, and howl. Beneath a gorgeous moon, we writhe

in ecstasy and sing to the almighty, how far we have

fallen. God's grace surpass us and is gone. One bite

after another, we hasten to our deaths.

And misery, and obligation; and sense be damned.

Death is the movement of life.

With one palm outward, and the other aside;

we scrape our way into the end; and there we die.

Holding onto candles and the rest, in pieces

as we bleed our life out. Death comes at a slow pace,

at the end; and we move like children learning how

to walk. In pieces, in the dark.

Left out of breath.

And when movement picks up again, we seize ourselves,

and carry out another melancholy movement; we drift;

ebbing and flowing to the rhythm of the rest,

drowning out in religious banter. Candles and the rest,

slow movements picking up again; and we are left.

We set adrift on loose leaf sheets; into the darkness

of destructive winds; and there, with you I finally

settle in; We hold a candle to corrupted flesh; setting

fire to books and words therein; and burn the house

we left behind in shambles for the rain to claim.

I softly kiss your perch, for those pernicious words

you speak to me; you are the giver of my death, and

my deceitful gazer. Come, claim the throne I've made

you out of vines; no canopy to shelter you; and when

the darkness comes, I will burn you there, as you sit.

Leave.

Drench the sour companions we have born.

You walk on the edge, and I plainly somewhere in between;

worlds and time, and rhythm; dancing on stars serene; but--

we keep it to ourselves this time, this rhythm of the beating

heart; and blindly lose our paths; and each other.

Caught on a rose bush; rolling through the weeds, with

prickly burrs stabbing at the skin. Death loves to drink

with us in the forest of our dreams. And I lose you,

and there in my delivery room; birthing our only child,

I lose myself.

All is for naught;

This emptiness claims a small part of me, and I lose you;

again. Each time I grab onto you, you slip away into the

hole of Death. And I climb madly just to remember your

face as a consolation to my longing. But I find nothing

here at the bottom of the pit; I purge my emptiness,

and its belongings.

Ripe is the hour.

With introspection's blind eye; I peer inside you.

And what I find is the same emptiness gnawing at me.

The birth of an angel, and hell's destruction bent on

capturing that soul into its fold. It perishes.

And yours and mine.

We can sever our chords, and create disharmony's illusion

of love. And we can sing the praises to ourselves in our

dark lullabies. And we can dance in the fires of a world

gone up in flames, take no prisoners;

Empty our bowls.

And fill them with each other's flesh.

You plead the nightstand delivery; and I've become

accustomed to the drumming on of flesh's signs,

when in your labor ready room; I sat upon a shelf,

while you delivered. & you swing lonely into night shades,

you swing down into my dreams; and I plot over you.

Death comes in shades.

You dreamed of fire; and I of the sesame, we sprinkled

the bed with its remains; the culprit pounding in our

heads; we fired with our relief, triggered happenstance.

And when we go to bed he sleeps;

You gave the reason for my manifest. I drank the rest.

It's slowly over, as the fat lady goes to bed. We come

carousing in our heads and I scream; bloody murder.

Motion by the way, relieved in what the fat lady said.

Love in its entitlement; a role fulfilled

with the ecstasy of dawn's becoming;

it is not the purpose we had sought out,

but only death can claim the answer to our thoughts;

How much I longed for you, Devourer of Souls.

And when we purge the final state, we find ourselves,

left unbroken and in array fit for the flame.

Unbemused. Like a token set out for the scepter

to reclaim. An untied knot.

Right when water washes away our sins; and fire

consumes our very being; enter heaven, or hell.

We purge again.

Blessed be God forever, who takes away our notion

of good and evil; who scrapes the bottom of the barrel

for our righteous deeds and finds all humanity lacking.

Let Him come.

The house is burning down.

Renewed discomfort, and the sin departs its hold;

if you could come endow me with your beauty, for

but a moment I would have you sleeping next to me.

And take this flower from my arms, and from my grip;

leftover from the last time we had touched, its

small petals a reminder of your love. Love doesn't

give, it isn't kind; it is a vicious snake bite

lurking in the dust of yesterday's apparel. And

I love you with all my heart. Devoted to your entropy.

And we pretend to be in one another's parasitic hold,

the kind of completion love could never know.

Sever the head.

Love, like God, is dead. It didn't have a chance

to sew its fingers back on. But I'll amuse you, one

last dance before the curtain call. Love me.

And we adjust in time to our surroundings;

so I will with you, in your death surround

myself with your belongings. And lay claim

to any droppings of your livelihood; and

dress myself up with your attire.

We drift apart; and come;

when the whole world is at our feet, we collide;

and I with you, as one accord to sing,

we patronize the earth and its inhabitants, we sever bonds

and break the early dew from its silhouetted sun.

And when the world falls at our feet, we collide;

you and I, the distance to the sun. And in our holding keep,

the tolerance of flame to heated iron;

You and I, the drifters on the wind.

Poison taps me on the wrist; she seems to know

my delusional song, whilst in cobbed webs, we may

remind each other just who we really think we are;

in some small gesture of the move from now and then,

to carouse and to denounce our comings from the goings;

We slaves on fire.

Halfway through the darkened room before the demons come;

rushing in.

Calmed peace; and inner tranquility, some amusement from

the stuffed animals scattered here or there; and laying

on our backs in gentle laughter, this is life; here and now,

these memories; but death will come with strangling fire,

The two will marry in union;

In this divine union; where god meets dog,

and all the words collide into assembly lines,

and drivers mark the stops and gos of their cars;

fortune 500s drink the wine of their labor farms;

Where do we fit in?

To reason without reasonable reported cause?

Bless the marketplace, God bless the marketplace;

and dress it up. To be or not to be, even at our own

will, what is life; and should we be forgotten come

the wake up call; and left for dead, what is the end?

Nobody knows for certain.

Who has passed through death and come back unscathed;

and even if then; how delusional they might have become.

Death is the key.

Even in passing, we only enter when we stay so. Life

has no reach into the unknown world.

Love lingers in the veins; still the essence of your touch

arouses me, And through the sea's still surface, I hear

your breath come chasing me; I dreamed of fortune that would

outlast my foothold here on earth; and if it were, I would

let it go to touch your fingertips once more; and so

the slow, departure in time awaits; and so, the slow; end.

At the bottom of everything;;

I count my cost and its molten flames,

no shepherd but a castout; and the undulating death of shame,

I burst into laughter as if fear rejected me;

and then again, I suckled on the lip of her

who had anointed me her saviour; Swollen pig.

She has found me wanting, her above all else.

The pig stuck in memory's bank;

All bloody with her entrails leading toward the sun,

as dreams go, there's been a moment or two of clarity,

receding slowly in the undulating fire of consciousness,

and I'm enraptured by the principle of love's touch.

It comes bleeding into pools within the chasm's fold;

and so her charms collect as rain in ashes; my own

heart. We trust in luck and consequences for our action,

our own response to living with the pain of our denials;

And so the respite will require its own blood;

when the yearning fails to entertain,

point blank fired; and she is slain.

Eating the meat, tension in the wire of her cooking,

dressed in ribbons of her own flesh,

she is quite sane. But I'll undo her skirts;

And keep the captive slain for the wedding feast.

And through collected consciousness; she is rebounded,

a blur of light through time and space's memory; and

what I see of her is simply beautiful.

But the long summer comes closing to an end; and dust

settles and the boards creak; I'm losing grasp of

what I largely will never understand; but just a glimpse

of motion, beating at the clouds;

Full motion.

Dripping mounds of flesh and rot, decay that's got;

the back of my mind in dread of death and our existence;

So simple were the days when everything was run on

the instincts, if there were such days; before evolution

turned us into scholars. It is a suicidal run,

to wrestle with death. And so we run.

With this insightful sun, bleeding at my back;

and hope to crack some uninspiring code; I loosen

our ties; but not completely letting go,

You empathize with me, but I require solitude

and transmissions from beyond; the voices in my

head devour hope and let the space run dry with

obstacles and migratory skin; letting loose

is just another phrase, and so it begins; so the

slow climbing through the mists of our belonging.

I try to capture sound, I try to let the whole

world come tumbling; and for it, it behaves

as a demon child; the forgotten paradise of

our ancestors; blood letting.

Eat rot; and decay. Let flies consume us;

Wash in murk and let the rhythm of the dance

abuse our minds; base. Run with the wild.

There is no letting go of you.

When death settles, and the dreamer's left with

other things to capture in her flood; the feelings

seep with what may come; next.

Perused and unforgotten bibles, left for consequences

of the damned; and holy texts read once through. And you,

unholy temptress of my desires; who speaks in seven tongues,

the dangers of being with you. Tonight I'll dream of

distant stars with worlds the same as ours; And take

company with those of friends I've never known.

What loose and severed language we speak;

and the closed up boxes our minds travel in;

round about, Mary; time for bed;

The unholy sainted mother,

who will pray to her when Lucifer is born;

And what will the whore reply when asked to feed the damned?

When the blue surrounds me, and I can't complete

a thought without your voice; inside me, you are

inside me; coming like the crisp cool water;

drowning me in your form.

And ecstasy's a signal flare from above; capturing

my heart in your fair eyes; love is just another

form of nostalgia, keeping company with the dearly

departed. And so I drift in you; and in your words,

past memories colliding with an unforgiving force.

And while despair collects the lack of substance

surrounding you; I perch, and hold onto what is new;

this distance of a dream to our reality, and my

motion subsides in the sea. I'm drowned without

the hope of letting go.

Take me under.

Poised with one hand bleeding out for you;

and in the other, held the knife I cut myself;

And you have drunk of my disentangled love.

Cut out my tongue, and I will have you to myself,

and I will bleed renewed in my completeness;

Of isolation's finished song; and dress myself;

in the tangles of your love.

Do we pursue our fight with fate and with each other;

wrestle in the darkness of our mania; and there

receive a glimmer of redemption and passion's fury,

Or strive on in the mediocrity of life's dispassioned

front, and painting pictures like the mud; and painting

pictures without color or content; and everything

fades, these visions in the darkness of the mind;

everything rocks to a lost redeemer who's been gone

for centuries; looking for some hope to resurrect

their purpose. With madness comes irresponsibility;

and fire.

In my forbidden sculpture of you;

where dark things grow and spin their webs;

in lucid hours, dreaming what I may,

as I perfect your form.

The howling shadows of an interim.

Dust and mildew; rot.

Collecting all the pieces of your body,

from decaying substance of the mind.

We piece your soul from memory.

And glue you with the damned's abominations.

You are real to me, and so I fume and furl;

and howl above the rafters; as I collect

the pieces of the dead.

Onward, to the next phase of design;

when hand meets hand and out of isolation

I succumb;

Desire's edge of the blade.

Two hands; stripped of eloquent redoubt,

and a simple language spoken through the mire;

many passed here; and I supress the simplest gaze,

for purity and for pursuit;

Seams split, and the wounded wander out;

garments split, and I find myself naked;

seeds of toxic remedies hold in the pain;

Isolation's lingering remains.

Whether or not this dysfunction collects your skin,

I will abide by my misfortunes; and call you someone

to reap my sorrows and my joys; as they before you,

called and did collect. And I will fasten footsteps

to your place upon the throne of my delivery,

Keep safe there; and do not wander far,

for the hour is coming when,

as you remain I will come to gather you;

into my fold of sculpted ice.

And I don't require anything from you;

except your soul, in a bottle.

Tied up and strapped.

Singing for me;

And when I rupture you, you'll bleed.

So the fork bites, and so the canary sings.

In a bottle from a friend; I find you trapped within;

and in the well within I find you haunting me;

a seasoned pain lingers at the bottom; and you draw blood.

With love and death,

I catch my breath,

a moment.

And lurking inward we see lullabies without comfort;

the cradling techniques we learned have fallen into disuse;

a shielded harmony, subset of my temperature's collision,

with the fever. Blood droplets, stinging pain.

Why not scrap the lot, and bargain basement hunt?

Subsume.

Resume for; a trinket to add to the pile?

The loins in motion, a lion for the hunt;

capture the innocent in our web of artistic intent.

Drive out denial.

Work with me.

Pinned down; diverted, and stuck;

rest assured, no harm will come,

And on the mark, you'll bleed.

Here, have some rest; and I will slumber,

in the trenches of my secret hide;

And I will find your nerve basin.

You douse out the fantasy,

and read between; where others shy away.

We hit rock bottom,

and more blood lets.

Fair game, we are in this together.

But you stray, and the cats don't often back;

when hands touch and reading fulfills the mind;

let the worries and the wash reduce your fears;

Come summer, we will all burn in the pit.

It is my stage, and I can come corrupted;

with the fire, and hold you down; to make you

bleed. To drown you in a bout of flames and ashes.

Suffer me.

I will treat you gentle, as a child; no more

tender than a kiss upon your mouth; and with

the blade, cut out your heart; and make you scream

in ecstasy. Drowning out the cries with my

sermon on the mountain side.

We'll play; like children of the damned,

and sit beneath the ashen sky,

And wallow in the mire.

The way the heart moves;

in spinning cycles, like the last coherent thought

I'll ever have.

In concrete blocks, I'll enclose you; encase you,

My Desire; draped in red cloth.

I'll hold you there, not far from me;

within my pocket's reach. And you will glare;

Hate me.

With years spent in the isolation of my own house;

I go outdoors and see the sun, perching near me,

and hear your voice; faintly as a whisper. You call;

when there's no doubt about my loss of sanity,

And echo in.

Reason can defy belief in gods and kings;

but in their denial, we've lost what we had.

I purchase you, at a price of my surrender;

and seize you, in an effort to calm my nerves again.

But you are not enough, without the cold touch.

I gaze off, and wonder who would be;

the one to hear our call; of the wilder path;

and to surrender herself to our gnawing bite.

In my gazing, there is an empathy;

a serene benediction; and venom.

Down through the chasm,

collected in the bowl of consciousness;

and undreamed.

My recollected form of you;

what would have been your body;

after the dark depression

set the mind free.

We weed away

the hollows of your bath;

and sink in teeth;

your body provides me sustenance,

and let your soul

provide my

consequential surrender;

and your denial

of the birth

we had envisioned.

I need you.

Encompass me in flames,

surround my soul with the bitterness

of regret,

unfortunate survival,

sonic death. Trapse

the bitter compassion of the saints;

four hours, wild;

incomplete surrender-

Verse.

I am a lunatic.

And the feeling that surrounds me is deep fire;

for your touch upon my lips; even sour,

I burn.

And this make-up marks a scepter to the rush;

a deep divide of plains from mountain ice,

and molten lava rushing to the bottom of the sea;

keep me in the shade of your deliverance;

I burn.

Douse me in flames, and hold me under until I scream;

take destiny's divide, if you will;

drop me in the ocean, make it steam;

collect the cold marsh waters and pour them over me;

Love me.

I wrestle with the winds you have corrupted;

disunion has embarked and I cannot pick up steel;

or bend my fingers round a glass; my weight is words,

and the sky rains them in on me, I wonder why the

world picks up its worth; to muster murderers and

victims for a crime committed by the gods; and then

we rise up to renew our fossilization. Come spring

flowers, come what may we wander; through the garden;

And in my time spent working through the sloshing filth

of sentences and springs; I floundered much; as I do,

When the words don't work when the rhythm is off;

When desire stifles itself, and there's nothing to push against;

How to beat the rhythm out.

The sign that you have come; a secret calling

after dark, its pattern interrupted by the midnight

traffic; and the arc of its arrival without sound,

and without mercury.

Blood lets in the fusion of our capillaries,

with stark surveillance of our mind's corrupted glare,

and interpretations abound as we are falling

through the midnight air; through shadows and deceit;

We interrupt ourselves.

And Jesus makes the rounds about our governance,

selects a treasoner to do the dirty work; and we

select our own among the fallen; and shatter

the highly endowed among the angels; we pull them

down and devour them for their worth.

Hell is all-encompassing.

Hell is a machine; and we are caught in the gears

of its moving; the sucking motion sound, and pull;

clink, clink, clink; and the rattle; it purrs.

Your blessed machine; from whence creation sang,

and to all; will descend; the fire there brightens

the days; and nights, as the machine runs. tick;

tock; tick.

We run through foul weather to get here; and

when we are arrived; the city purrs for us;

each movement of a block; and each corner passed,

the machine never stops; moving.

If Death is a lie in this false hope of a world;

we'll all succumb to this sort of change.

The demon's ugly face as it arrives;

All false teeth and dissonant scars,

Hair ripped out and shredded in the dark;

A mire swallows you whole; but I draw you up,

and clothe you in my own attire;

You are the cursed and the defiled;

Roaming through secret passageways,

unbeknownst to men or even angels;

Your purr, a hissing curse; your sour tongue;

screaming foul and odorous blasphemies;

You are a setting sun, burning to the last drop,

And through it all, damned to live out life

an imp, and a rotting thing;

I find you beautiful.

Your soft, seductive glimmer; and the way your

hands turn in at the last moment; chasing clouds

with you on such a summer's day. It's bright white

fantasy, colluding with you; and in the death

of my desire; I've enclosed a brilliant casing

for our future.

An echo, a plasma beam; a drunken dog; seething;

a schoolyard scramble, and a scuffle for the streets;

a distant loss; and the memory it reawakens within,

Let's hope these owls will migrate,

at the setting of the sun;

we'll drink our fill and fumigate

while driving on and on and on and on and on.

In this cold scrapyard;

we've bled the bottle dry; and I succumb,

my desire a filthy mess; you've tainted the mind;

and poured your toxins inside,

and though I write these words, there's nothing

left to say;

But I will bleed the more,

and I will pick up worth from your dead bones;

secreting solid milk and honey from your

remains.

Picked dry.

Pickled ashes mixed with wine,

and earth. We'll fry your skin and sour it,

a seasoned mixture of time; a feast

fit for the king of the hill in his domain,

a much molested stain; a title driven

through the heart of a dead skeleton of a man.

Another day, and to the mist of morning,

when sun completes her cycle to the dawn;

and we shed our skin of dreams, and leave

the shadows of the night behind; and cope

with anger's hat upon our brows; you

love to tear the remainder of the wall down.

And dress the sky with burning things;

to difficult to name, the season's bright

reminder of a man who leapt from the tall

towers of the sky; and you left him,

dreaming in his small hour of relief between

the fall and death;

And so I succumb to your demands; your bitter

belly laugh, and jump hoops into hell's

demonic glistening pool; I swirl up storms

for you to drink in; and leap.

Catch me if you can.

I do not hear them screaming; in the sours

of the mind, and all is still except your

symphonic voice; so play for me a ballad

from the belly of your song, and the dryness

of your voice let bleeding ears to hear;

My mission lies in you, and all the fog you

left me with devours consciousness; dry

blood dies a cemetary's fog for two to

howl upon the hill;

Dressed in red; with ceremony stilts,

above the world we wrestle with our words,

and conquer our angelic host with hilt and

dagger's edge; we swell our bellies for the

birth of his deliverance.

We swell our bellies with the anti-christ.

And so this rug becomes unstitched; and falls apart,

it leaves you longing for the welcome it had promised;

and into night, we fall apart and to our deaths' demise,

an unstrung hero; and an other; left to rot in sin.

You come,

free of all the fantasy I've drawn about you;

and you come;

blessed in body and with your own mind;

another angel; perched upon my door, and singing

inward. To the hole within my heart that will

not fill; but you try to give me one last chance

of love's age old glory, an anti-septic sponge

placed on the wound; you won't succeed, and

in attempt you've fallen through; there is no

salvation tucked away, and though this be;

you are a drifter in the dark, like me.

The ritualistic blood flows; deep within the belly,

of the womb; her subtle cries and laughter sing,

she is my anti-christ; born of saturation with T.V.;

and I compare her longing with the sweet revenge

of angels' suffering. Her love is like a drunken

fit of rage; and she screams lovingly into my ears;

if I could hear her through the layers of flesh

and blood; she will sing to me my lullabies;

Promises of hell's wrath; for us.

And I will suckle her, with the milk of my damnation,

and suffer her my blood mixed in for salt;

She is my isolation, and my desire.

Into the pool of the unconscious I arrive;

blessed with steaming corpses and the suspicion

of being watched; and I listen to Satan make his plea;

to enter me and feed upon my desires; and this

revulsion of form; this anticipation that something

real subsists in time divided; And so the call;

Dreary eyes remember our last crossed path,

and through the madness came a slight corruption of my form,

then all retired but the name of incantation;

a sweet, devouring kiss to call for help.

Love was lost upon the birth of an angel of the dark;

and her delivery was made clean through our embrace.

Come into the sea of corruption;

dressed up for the dance of the dead;

and when we mark the beginning of the end,

we'll swim in circles, to bring the conquest

to a start; Run in laps upon the wind,

we'll drink the blood of one another's failure;

to survive our souls in earth's desires;

we'll bleed in ecstasy throughout the night.

So swim in the corruption of our death,

and make merry in the essence of all earthly delights,

bring the wine, and dance throughout the fiery blaze;

until heaven splits and leaves nothing but remains.

And you and I, we'll sing our fiery song of love;

with one last kiss left before the flames extinguish;

we'll fuck each other in the cold glow of the moon,

burning up with passionate love; and I'll give you

a taste of my desire's sting; while I hold you under

And make you bleed.

In case we come across each other's path;

a collision of flesh between the sheets of night;

and I devour the sun from its encasing; then,

pull me under and we will breathe again,

Into the strange darkness,

we'll follow the footsteps of a man,

and walk the fine lines of madness;

and you will come, betrothed and I your lover;

we'll sing flame, and forest be our glade for

surveilling silences from the deep; water rest,

and spin her wavy arms;

What would caress, completes a cycle of our

dissonant revival; as we compare

the rapture of a nest's alluring look;

come now, we'll breach the fire; together

holding hands as one triumphant over death.

Our wrists cut, and blood spilt; two lovers.

Dying in the ashes of an evergreen.

In the disemboweled reunion of our consciousness,

buried in the murk of our denied revival;

we shower in the filth of steaming ecstasy;

our souls entwined.

And this past summer,

dreaming in your midst;

feasting on the carrots

of your beauty; I was

denied the long existence

of the fantasy's mild

turning of my hold;

Steam remembers me; and your denial of our grip

upon each other; your severed patch of love's sweet

kiss. But I remember it; and I hold up candles

in the darkness to its reigniting flame;

I want you. So twine will hold us,

together in this flood of fame and fortune,

and hell will not depart you from my face;

we will be bound for the remainder of days.

Down the rabbit's hole, and into our cold and

suffering denial of a sin; we graze the keeper's

doorway; but won't let in his dissonant resistance;

and cover up ourselves from Adam's fall;

Naked, in the dark;

We drive ourselves down. And in this fueled

renewal of our birth; it's leavened and hard

to foot the bill; we strive and swim on.

And so tonight, that I may comfort you;

we'll level in the waters of a cesspool;

drift, and float on scummy sinks;

Watch corporate T.V.; and with the will

of our renewed sensations giving close,

Renounce our vows; and simmer in the dark.

Within these fragments of a world;

divided and dashed to pieces by a memory,

succumbed to the ranting voice of a mad woman;

raving in the dark;

Pitch black song of sustenance.

And I hear her voice, channeled like a fine flame,

devouring my thoughts; her rest is my recovery;

Here, in the shallow waters of my breath's blame,

I yearn for her seductive, soft moving parts;

and spill my own desires among the remains of ashes.

Shelter comes in the form of moving beasts;

plagiarizing my works; and my words,

severing their own pay for beads of regretful hours;

swift silence in the darkness carries on for hours;

and we recede, and we descend; and into shadows

are cast upon stone; and shatter.

Your surrender song,

an ill-spent time's piece;

fashioned with the sole rehearsal of your contemptuous

sign for the sun's collapse; and unremarkable as such

songs go; a fever in the dark.

Thread the needle, while it lasts; and come

sew up the split between us as the frost glistens on our sill;

and speak the name of our surviving daughter,

when at last the seasons change, we'll drown her in the flood;

I'll sing, and our sweet time together;

will fasten us like two sheep tied for slaughter;

in the night, we'll come corrupted for the furnace's

hunger pains, and skin ourselves each one another's

dirty knives held out; cuts marked with the stain of;

Blood let down.

Keep calling my name; let the stones remember it,

and do not forget to cradle them, in the dark;

before light fades completely, and there we'll make

a home, there all things fade into the end of time.

Roam about; keep the angels from their task;

and without falter try to harness the soul's dividing

force; unleash the new arrival of our offspring,

and sever it's contention in due course.

We'll rise to meet the darkness as it comes; and fall,

into each other's arms as God puts out the sirens;

we'll break light to whisper on the canopy of saints,

and leave the ashes for the dead believers of His graces.

We'll make a mockery of worship.

In the capillaries; by blood and broken skin;

she rises; in dreams so real I could touch;

but then she's taken.

Through uninterrupted curtails and swarms of

deep breathing; through curtained swaths of

mysterious romances; and adventure; it is a

mundane movie, for the most part; but one of

light; ease- easiness; simple surrenders;

perhaps this is what life would have been,

had her curtain not been called; and her

surrender to death; drown her in the moment

of our childhood; perhaps there'd be less

darkness for us all.

By the earth's shore; where crusty land meet

ocean floor; at the door and entrance to your home;

The fish no longer swim in school; they flounder

on the rock; without breathing; and so I find myself

without the breath to carry on;

Bathe me in your darkness; wholly drenched

and submerged for your dissection;

I wallow in this unclean cave where you

have placed my beating heart; and wonder

what will come of me; as I drown in this

sour air.

Let me breathe, again;

let the wisps of smoke consume me,

let me under and beneath you;

and cool showers from your breast

consume my soul.

In my reserve; in this small skin of doubt

and recovery; this seemingly endless trip

about heaven and hell; and death. Here,

I wander about like a maniac; with head

strings loosed and bleeding rampant chaos;

Is it enough to live; without care,

what matters in the end; how it influences us;

and what we do.

Death is an end; but does it end all;

and is there hope for even sinners to collect

the payments they have placed upon the table;

and is there some apparent pattern to the mists

of darkness seeping from beneath the corridor;

To death, where we part; my love.

It's met with manic depression; a soothing

glance to mock the mere obsessive art of dreaming;

and though we can't believe in what will be;

what will become of us after the death of our

small existences through life's wet lands;

We shy away, because it isn't our home;

it isn't our place to say what love could be;

and we retain some dignity through our denied

affair.

It's open arms; its open arms encompass

all our lives; and we are scared,

Say soothing things to me.

And dress yourself up for the fire;

leave it alone and show me who you

really are beneath the make-up;

sever your skin from the mind's edge;

And wail.

When art and light resolve play a hand;

and under beds of children; we're found laughing

at the sky; and so I take your hand in mine;

we can peruse the world's deep secrets in time

alotted for our lives; with seven songs spun

to sing discordant love songs; to each other.

Spread yourself;

And in my cool compartmentalized and destructive

self I'll bring; you to be under me.

Leave the dissonant constructions for a spell;

we'll chant tonight through dawn's ensnaring cell;

and I will hold you, pinned to the iron shaft;

pinned down through the destruction of it all.

What hero will come to the aid of a damsel

such as you; who will save you; in your hour

of disbelief; and an uncaring heart throbbing

with the sounds of ecstasy's denial;

you will tell me your sweet secrets on the pyre.

Your beauty strikes a chord deep within me;

it shatters all the dreams I've kept on calling to;

and through your voice, I hear a bit of reason

stemming through me; like fire bleeding on the

edge of destiny's betrayal;

I could touch you, if I wanted.

And let the old ways pass between our fingers;

old, dead gods; and brighten up the day.

Leftovers and passover remain untouched;

these severed stilts of religion may entertain

our passions; While we contain the treason

of our sexual enticement; so remains the

season for the living and the dead.

It sings in the harbor of our time;

collecting all the thoughts we've dripped away;

this fluidity and motion of the mind's blind edge,

succumbs to our despair's enlightened breeze;

And when you come, walking on the water;

spinning dreams of no consequence but to alter

our perception of this transgressive sin;

admonishment, a small plank in the blink of an eye;

deafly swimming in the dark; we cannot see

but each other's forms.

We drink our calculated risk of conception;

we sting the bastard's skin without relief of pain;

and ring the moment of our hold in its perception;

and regret nothing, as we spread ourselves thin.

A self-proclaimed messiah's mother;

bleeding from her womb; and she has caught

the fever of intolerance; she washes her skin

in the ivory remains of the beast.

Keep her clean, and watch over her; says

the angels of the damned; she is our salvation

come to fruition, she holds the key to hell;

Let us out.

That we may come in glory, to pursue the host

of heaven; And debase them. She is the saint

we shall worship in the darkness of our realm;

The Golden Mother; an idol for our temple.

In our collapse, of selfish aims and goals not fit

for human sacrifice to gods; our remains,

dust and ashes on the breath of saints; swell

only momentarily as we begin our great descent.

And into the caves; we are driven; into lust,

passion's preserves; and we go only hand in hand,

into the death of self-denial's claim; we fondle

the past within our cold and lonely cells;

Love lost, hollows out our faces;

in the sight of a gambit fit for kings;

we await our trial's jury to accost us for our sins.

an unspoken dream;

spent in night's collision with the mind,

and so we become corrupted; as innocence subsides,

through peeled layers of a fresco;

Doused in flame,

You meet the will of this unswerving skin,

and shone the proper disinterest of parties;

and the veil loosened between the breath of lovers,

Another facade to place the dreamer up upon;

while canticle persuades the death of hour into dream.

And child, without sustenance belongs to her ensnaring arms;

a fit, and rage redeems the core's complaints.

The seed of our ensemble; a perfect twist;

to our corruption in the spring, and without

water; we fail to bring the child into the sea;

where she belongs, with the intimacy of the waves;

and breathing beds of oxygen to sift between her gills;

And so I'm fed;

without doubt to season the taste,

not a flurry of reasoning to hide behind;

merely an infanticide's design.

Dolt; youth; fire in the hill, without bound;

and naviagot's not the active light of life we've

sheltered ourselves within; curious caves;

These meccas; signing the sledge; and so we

repel the walkers of our denied ensnares;

I could encapsulate and prolong the exposure,

but I'll wait here while it's endowed with our

departure from the conscious mind.

Left without the darkness to walk with;

naked, and exposed;

without pretention.

She rocks me back and forth in her sweet waves;

soothing the mind of its contraptions and

beguiling ways; she tosses a dime into the well,

and wishes we could betray ourselves and our

enraptured past; to fly within the rain,

without a care for quality of life.

Breeze easy, love;

Let the hair down, let the innocence of our

enraptured past betray our living. Let loose

the fantasy of denial sway your mind;

Blessed be those who hold no god above their head,

who without doubt deny the reason for their living as nothing

more than this small world's decay; treason left for dead.

And dying thoughts remind us of our blood; seeping

as it may for life's endowed miseries; let the blood

of patience be our past, and let the mists swallow us;

For the remainder of days.

When in doubt; she crosses my mind, like wildfire

and I go hunting for the scents she's left behind;

two throbbing pulses in my head keep me alive;

and I spin unnecessarily through cotton woven

fabrics, seeping out the blood of my enthrallments;

So superstitious canaries can return their wings;

I leave another piece of me tied up in shallow waters;

and bleed the night's incumbents for an hour;

The water is sharp.

Her shoes fit right.

With inconsistent patterns in the dark;

the sounds of birds, alive or dead and

breathing of the wolves that lie corrupted;

false flesh, intrinsic tales with leftover

pieces running loose;

All else fails; to flock and burn as one;

Quick, short spaces; escape from the poignant

marks spreading thinly on the bedsheets; an

amusement, a curtailed device; reinforced madness;

We pose the picture for the fourth, and it's

the engagement of the nations we have seen performed;

you drive the nails in; we drive them in together;

but I mark hers the last I will perform,

She's caught in collar-deep isolation; and my own

discomfort bleeds as we carry forth.

You are meaning, but she the vandal in spades.

We drive a catapult between stars' isolation;

we force ourselves into unnatural division of

space and time; yet we survive; a paradox, of

form and format through the surveillancing and

streams of information; call clean, dirty waters

Prevail through our generation and the next;

a most holy scourge sent forth by man; dream deep,

and succumb to reservations of the waters;

Let the whole of nature sink.

In time's delight; usher in the praise of saints,

set forth stars' deletion; raise the banner of

the living dead, we rape each other.

And I will have you; beneath my wings, I'll bleed

you dry to the dead gods of the past; with sacrificial

preservation I'll consume you for an hour and a night;

until nothing remains except the bones; a raw skeleton

poised in our desired spot. I'll leave you there,

a memory of what I had with you; and you'll live on

Cast upon the bed of my delights.

Prescribed salvation clutters up my mind;

cold sores from dead gods and dusty books;

reminder of what will be when we arrive

at the edge of life; into our death,

the plagiarist revision, covered in new

layers of disease; men's gods in cold

shades with metaphorical revision.

Take this pill and swallow,

it is my body; given up for you.

The dead dance freely;

without remission of sins;

and all is well, until the end;

when good things come to those,

who asked in thei repentant hearts;

to kiss the longings farewell;

and fought with sin's abundant stain.

So long, I bid thee goodnight;

until death; where we part

the good from the evil ones;

the obedient and sane;

from the mad.

Her curtains drop, and I see everything;

what would this kiss describe if it were words?

The eloquence of love's first blissful hour,

bleeding through the veins; and the chemicals

provided for the rush of a high;

In her soft sprinkling of my enrapturement,

the song provides.

The color of deep blue; destined for the camouflage

of our escape; and into wilder places, we will

hang our heads; death will be a sign of our disease.

Likely no one knows the extents to which we'll

travel; the early bird devours while the slain

sit in and wait for it to be served; another

piece at your disposal, how contrary department

heads need to be heard;

Bouncing back and forth ideas, between the soul;

and study; what is pleasing to the ears; or mind,

comes running through to sometimes create a rather

dissonant sound; I'd bring the whole thing down;

but wait, it is a record of my piece.

It begets the question of the ages;

and you haunt me in the shallow depths

of the mind, what does faith amount to?

Your transparent skin; the demons drawing in;

and my cursed hands, suffering with these words,

the drawn out phases of the moon; bleeding light

from their rebounded path; who is king of

existence?

What force drives the atoms to their place?

And in my sleep, I dream that I am the holy virgin;

with time around my neck; in the shape of a heart;

a folded clockwork and I've been sent from heaven;

Cast out.

And I dream my body beautiful;

How a subtle change can cause catastrophe;

show me. Breathe in and swallow me;

and when the even tide overtakes; bend me

to your will; into your wasteland.

And when the hour grows; time consumes my soul';

these are the unfortunate days, spoken of in old;

the kind, collected parts of me transpire;

and washing in the cold, wet rain; I die another.

Compatriots of death's uncaring swallow;

left for lies, and deceitful snares; we wallow,

drowning in our own affairs. And less than life's

attended scares and sinning songs; we rock,

and cool effect upon our brows. The mind is an easy

place to fool.

The words ramble on; repeating.

My guess is this obsessive song;

carries on while I am dreaming,

In its report; I place the head

between cold legs and howl.

Scratching motions in the dark;

dissemination of a soul unfit,

for its existence, wandering on.

So to sublime intoxication of the

shadows it's beheld; and to the life

that ushers forth from them; and to

a beauteous muse that never ceases

her denial of the flesh, the song

will cease; when I am dead.

When in disguise; I might entangle the meaning

of my words with you; so shallow holds don't

enter, and there's another space to crawl;

Deep drops of fluid from the sky;

In doses of the cut out doll's cut out heart;

in isolation and the rest; receiving nothing

of the motion for the wall, you rest I will

take over from here;

With you at my side and nothing wanting;

no best friends, no others; just a silent

secret between us both; no others; merely

lost acquaintances. There's a tie not worn,

bondage of sorts; for our true path beneath

the stars; give me a moment's pause; I'll

breathe at last and tie you down; we'll

watch this from the balcony.

In the devices of our hands; we roam through time

and space, divided love; a duty sound without

the spurs of our contrivances; and though I know

you were the demon causing me to fall; I'll not

forbid you of the leash you've won around me,

It never fades; this longing for your kiss,

and in the fading skin I see you shallow in the mud;

complaining eagerly of the night we hadn't missed

out on the stars' reclining spins; and angels' gazing

down to see our surrender to the flesh.

So open up; and give out the diamond you have hidden

between your legs; Open up.

Insomnia's slight cousin; putting me to sleep

within the daytime hours; while I try to stay

awake, her little feet dangling as she prays;

And I come collected in a jar of relish.

For the name stay's tune to admite and admonish;

when the celtic songs play loops upon the CD player,

and nothing's quite right within the ward;

I'll take my two cents and run home toward the door;

you can't keep what's alive awake forever; but if you

try there may be some winning edge amongst the others;

depending how you keep score.

What world is this; played backwards?

An unoffending piece of cake;

screwed in a bulb to take its place;

and then the drive home weakened;

what we stood for.

What's the frequency; disrupted anew, and broadcast

she sees my eyes; peeled and waiting for the morning

sun to terrorize the flesh; radioactive decay comes

closer to the mourning of my insides;

And death concludes the long walk home,

there reason can't evolve or participate in the judgement

nothing other than deception through the chaos that survives;

Homeward,

bound in delights of the world; bound in flesh's

feverous decay; a stoic cell for breathing and another

washed and purposely betrayed with balls of glass;

Denounced perception doesn't infatuate the self's

sustaining purge of isolation, it's a small climb

to the end; but a short fall. Let the world sway.

The well swells; and what it holds is magic,

for a moment where there's no gods on earth,

but men reside unswerved; and through the

toiling of beliefs, an unhindered religion

steps forth. Forthcoming; analytic god

served with numbers and information; the

anti-religious people will evolve, to become

religious in their own direction;

What matters if all are fairy tales and

spiritual retreats are simply social affairs;

there is no magic; no motion of the spheres;

and the constituent parts are all encountered

through sophisticated ritual; part in parts;

entered whole with series of grey matter.

An establishment; anti-establishment; what goes

comes beneath the surface and waits to tackle.

Another series; yet another sequence to detract us

from our lives, an incongruous test for the mind,

and as it swells; we peel paprt its layer to find;

more madness buried deep inside;

Let out the wild dogs; let them run with ecstasy's

cravings, and to embark with you; my love,

a distance we can spill out with our savings;

false gods and false reclaiming arms to hold us,

when the shadows rise we'll seep into the sun.

Far from home,

bereft of my stomach's easy life;

you'll find me crawling through the mud

in my survival gear;

Base fulfillment,

I want to go out; to sever my arrangements;

discontinued service for the matter of an hour,

and I won't drop the telephone, no, I won't

drop the telephone; but in the evening time,

when it's quiet and getting dark; I'll call.

What is the plan for our engagement; and

will we be happier as the warplanes fly away;

why won't we ever be completely reduced to

a minimalism of sounds; a minimalism of

fantasies. And so I'll have to arrest myself;

to keep the wall intact; to keep it from falling down.

While we wash ourselves of our disease;

in the sea, I watch you make a mark on me;

and in my skin, it festers and receives

your work ; what's laid on me.

And there's no washing off the filth of your

transmissions; there is no dancer in the dark

to capture me from you; and all my narrow-minded

sins; go on, continue their disease's path.

Blind eyes to the trumpeter of life's denial;

awash with stains in the carpet of our health,

and our undoing waits with open arms; in the sea.

Let me be a free hand;

and I'll destroy this temple where it stands;

I'll catch a glimpse of you and land me where

I need to be to regret every moment of our kiss.

Sleep, like a plague; comes upon me,

and I can't burn these dreams away;

its encompassing arms, surrounding me

in the time for several days and nights;

Deep slumber; not quite so serene dreams.

I want to wash the paddles off with your tears;

with ebb and flow, succumb to your quiet shore;

where dream is not quite reality; mixed messages

are broken in the dark; you can't surmise my mind

but I will show you for what it's worth.

Let's build a tower to the sky and name him

adolescent; he'll be broken in time; just like

you or I.

With thoughts to tempt my fate, my folly

drives me into darkened pathways; succumbing

to the deeper well where dreams begin anticipation;

It's no wonder that my world will swell with

evening's tide and I will drown in the last drop

of rain as it comes sliding into my mouth;

While you sit by and laugh at my demise.

An angel humming words into the deep;

her eyes have seen, what her eyes have seen

of me, and my delusions; She will castrate

me and sew the stitches of my fantasy;

and its illusion stream a wailing sea of tears.

Wheeling through a blind spot; forgiving patience

its claim, and sewing another day's seeds off the

train of remembrance; forthcoming as it will be,

we rain ecstasy upon the garden when its greens

come showing up; so would you like to eat the fruit

of our survival? Pluck it up like the serpent told

you to do; And when the rain falls black, we'll

sing in harmonic oscillations of the mind;

Its ebb and flow of fire, its damnatory song;

and sew the rest of the world this way, for

sinners spring from ice caves to drink the wine;

the wrath and plagues; we all go down together;

Such is the story, such is the claim;

no one can keep the commandments,

so let us shirk responsibility and

claim our own throne; drop down

our garments and make a mockery.

And in this shielded maze of government;

we rock climb to the waters of our bathing,

sublime anticipation for the bath; its usage

born from avalanche's decay, we step into

the water's edge and drown ourselves slowly;

I will wash you clean of soul's decay and

drench you in my passion's flames.

Through spirit's call, we do not belong with

heaven's soul delight; paradise no longer

precedes us; and the garden is of no use;

to the ones who carry on backwards from

ascension's staring eyes;

We love in lost causes, we combine the frivolity

of sacrifices to unknown gods; we succumb

to deceptive paths for our own delights.

Let us bathe within these waters;

let us crown ourselves in youth's apparel,

while it lasts; and see that no one claims

the throne we've fashioned for ourselves;

what may come, may come in torrents in the darkness.

With what remains of destiny's enchantments;

the willow of the mire could be our sign;

and all our mother's milk may be the dawning

sun; that never comes, for we've abandoned her.

Dress well, breathe deeply; and let the caterpillars

weave their way between us; we'll fly; like them

into the flames of perdition, looking pretty;

and the moth's red candle she can hold our flame.

I want your head close and next to me as morning comes,

and all the flames become a blossom in the sun;

We'll shout each other's names as we dive into the ocean's

blazing heat; scouring the skin; raising the temperature

of our defeated souls; blazing out the remnants within;

we'll be skin and skin, and bones beneath our clothes.

It's seventeen miles to our abandon; and yet we press on,

and in thi stain of severed cords to heaven's gate;

we make each other our collective holy angels, pressing on,

within the waters of our abandonment; we move the sea,

spacing out the sighs of tired, weary eyes with those of

ecstasy; and in our still, we carve our paths in mind;

the death of our bodies with the cravings of the flesh

and desire; holding us from holding one another's

firm form.

What waters wash beneath us, carry us forward;

into the dark deceptive sink of hell's ensnare;

we grasp at straws left from above; but there is no

place here for entertaining hopeless dreams.

We come between each other's unfortunate revision;

And wait for pleas of harmless attention to be revoked.

Broken, on a bed of ice; adrift and alone,

you hear my calling fade; as I surrender to the mists

and am devoured by time left unrestrained;

The ocean between us still results in our

losing grip of one another through the distances

traveled along the way; we walk in separate paths,

each crossing compared to a bed of ecstasy; and our

survival holds to these occasions;

Come, and plant yourself a savior in my womb;

and douse the threat of hell with your collapse

of reason; come and shade yourself from heaven's

wrath, beneath the sea; we'll enter the land

of the dead.

We wade in the shallowness of time;

trapped by our desires; held hostage from

the innocence of reason's request,

we dive in the waters of the mind's

enticing grip of nonreality; and hold there

a semblance of fashion and grace we do not

possess; I covet the long strings holding

you in place here, hold onto them with

strong infatuation.

The grip between my mind and you is severing

my grip upon reality; and so I loosen the binding;

Blood runs thin as madness devours what remains.

Let the sea come, and overtake us;

let morning dew become an obsolete affair;

drown me in you; and let Leviathan pursue me,

here, I don't have care for what may come.

Your skin is my apparel when I surmount these

fallen shores; and in the midst of passion's

song, the soul surrenders to my call; when

there are dark descensions to counteract the

light; We dive beneath and drown ourselves

in the song we've begun to sing;

It is the drowning cry of angels scattered

on the wind; another shadow's force to reckon

with; and when the blade sinks, so we unravel

our demise; and let the blade consume us

and our lives.

But what of passion; what of grace and the

consummation of our long summer's drought,

beneath the waves we are safer; here than

in the raptured shores.

Let us sink; let us sink beneath the waves

for our completion.

Tomorrow, when we wed each other beneath an

isolated moon; and take tally of what the

good witches brought us; an underbelly of a

current to desolation's bow, we take our hands

in one another's; and devour the wedding feast;

Take this, and eat; it is my body;

given up for you to defile.

Take this cup, of an everlasting covenant

to you; drink and be merry;

it is my blood.

And the treachery of souls complete,

we wash each other's hands in one another;

letting desire run through our veins

for the last echo in this world,

We lose completion of our parts in each other's

sublime alteration; and take comfort as we dive.

The wait in water for a suicide; struck short,

remembrances on fire, and for a thirst that won't

attain the youth you left me no reasons to obtain;

we walk on shells and carry crutches; the best

knife is the one that's pointed inwards; you came

and I called for the night to end; devour what

remains of me;

Where life corrupts the sane; and cool darkness

brings about the edge; and end, of fame and

endless songs protracted through the night;

only mystery remains; and the only mystery is

whether you'll forsake me in the end; to leave

my remains in a sea bed somewhere; and tread

the golden waters of my youth; the golden

mystery of my appointed heir; and rise as

the demon of the sea; as you had come once,

the devil in his footprints on a bed of ash.

Remember me when loose leaves fall into the night;

and crystal clear; drowned upon the surface

of your sky.

It would still be hanging on the air, where

we had left it; within the shallow confines

of our longing and our passion's eye,

the same of our desire captured for the

moment of completion; through our scars

we'd have love between our thighs,

And swelling love between our bitter minds;

Who wouldn't know what love was after,

the letting loose of flames between night's

essence and the dayspring; who wouldn't long

for mourning's ashes on their lips, when

the night comes so sweetly after sour skin;

and I collapse in your lap, to sing the

mourning song of past goodbyes; and pray

to gods long dead for your arousal;

Let the night's ash linger on the tongue,

and let the day fade into isolation;

remind me what passion's song feels like.

A break in consciousness' pattern;

provides the coalescing of a mindset wrapped in iron;

and for the drop in temperature, a little ice; to spare

one's self the solitude; caress one's self in another's

womb; and spare the little trumpet blast his mother;

What world, we have arrived and settled into;

that this dissonant arousal should spread to;

and then we call the corporate police, their

dithering reminder of a moon past form and shadow.

Color me a swan;

set it upon the pool, and watch it swim;

color me a swan; and stay triumphant

through the battling of winds.

Yesterday's sink has stayed past its denial.

The waves wash me ashore; and there I wonder

of you and what was here and now, just moments before;

and then the tide took me under, and you were gone;

and in a silent song I bade you my farewell.

So sweetly delicious was the touch between us,

I, your angel come to deliver you to the hell

that awaits us both; and you; my simple servant

of the darkness, wanting to devour me, and I,

a willing participant for this sacrificial feast.

Let go of heaven's song;

that serene and beauteous song;

and the discord take us in;

the waves' requiem; for the dead

and for the damned; let it sing.

Our captured lands; enraptured selves beyond the veil,

with will and helms to carry on through dissonant

vowel collections, mesmerize me and antagonize the

darkness; without boundary forth; into the maze.

Let destiny decide what will and who remains;

for on our ship there's no captain to speak for us;

solely our responsibility to speak our own mind,

let the treason run deep inside and surround my soul;

And when the kingdom comes I'll be left in utter

darkness; bleeding through. But what will happen

to the slaves that utter chaos in their minds,

and of the carpenters who remain willing to

weave a web of genocide; and to the harbingers

of death; may they come at last surrender,

to cut down and devour me and my love.

I'll stake my life;

And let consumption pass.

We come, collected in the dark pool;

making love between the trees;

and letting the rain wash over us,

and so you leave me; standing in

the trainyard of my mind's edge,

Without worry or care of what may come of me;

it's just your face I want to burn inside.

And distance divides us;

like a hot blade, severing the tendons;

and it hurts.

When the ice cools off the cut,

and there's no memory of you to carry on;

inwardly I frown, and doubt gods' purpose.

I would deny my own existence;

if it were not etched in the steel

of my persona; and deny what was;

between us, every moment of bliss I can recall.

The motion set in place; our convalescent stares;

and into beauty's eye, I disappear; with love to

spare at its deep hour of abandoning hope; we

shelter one another from our desperation and fear,

I bid your tears to come; and mine to flavor

your thirst in its encompassing array;

What welcome will become of night when day has passed,

And so we sing the song of death's tumult;

not of light and frivolous pertainment; but of

death in all her hatred; and all her torrents

of decay, we sing the beauty of abandon and

praise the gods of yesterday;

Another fruit, ripened and picked by hand;

from the garden; another sin to add to the pyre;

and so we persist in cursing ourselves for the sake

of one another's madness; should we cease,

we'll lose faith in the insanity we've born.

Insanity's denial of a word; etched in stone

upon my heart, where it was born. And in my

calling of distress; come off my dress and I

will make you mourn with me in ecstasy;

Come off the seasoning of sea's salt

and rip apart my insides; for the baring

of my breasts to shed a shadow that has

lingered for an hour.

Distress calls you closer; and I consume

your flesh like fire does the earth in

the end; Letting go my feelings and my worth;

I poison myself and fade as melting snow.

For hopeful summer, and for praise;

to the anointed of my misery; a cost in flame,

and pursuit to what was once dead;

I live in luxury without the threat of denial.

You come at cost, and I withhold my flavor;

risen from the smoke of inhalation's breath,

cool words flock and sing me dreamily to sleep;

so much more your words than mine arouse the

feelings I must purge;

a conflagration of the wedding's dowry for the blind;

its risen mark lies within our bed; tonight we

fasten all the rings, recovering the sedentary news;

of mirth and merit; for thei eyes to consume.

We'll throw into the midst a bed of angels' sores;

perfumed, imprisoned; and endowed with hell's damnation.

She sleeps while I surrender to my madness;

the cool wash of the sea devouring her,

and so I sift through the pages of my ecstasy;

and drink in the bitter taste of emptiness.

Cold caress;

Pressed hard against the skin's enticing flavor,

and I drink her in, as sustenance,

and shed a tear for my wanton desire;

it has an edge, and the blade lies against her neck.

The motion of our love, laid out on the waters

of a midnight moon; reflected through a prism

at the stars; so comes your mind, molested without

purging of your sins; let me help you take

your dress off; and we'll dip slowly in;

Into the night's far reaches; withi shadows

and without flame, we'll feed on rats, disease;

until the fever claims us; we'll suck the blood

of demons past, tensed with ashes in our eyes.

And see the walls come tumbling;

through our eyes; we'll bleed misfortune,

Until all tastes tantalized; return in flavor.

This is the last breath;

cool winds blow between our lips,

from a thousand miles to the sea,

I dream of you in this kiss;

Farewell, sweet angel of the dark;

Before your coming, I had not known

of love's desires; and now I bid

the darkness come consume me.

Let go of me,

and let this rotten fruit of mine,

fall easy in the dirt of its residence;

and place upon the grave a former statute;

the form of love, manifest; our kind entwined.

Had matter pushed itself into being;

through our forms and consequential reality;

had not its skin performed the play upon

her fingers that we know. What could be real

if not these simple shafts of truth; lying

buried beneath a cloak of gods' deception;

And what would be hereafter; if not for

stories kept for sunday mass and anvils;

beaten truths upon the altar's side.

The long night left to leave me standing on

the shores of my intentions; with bleeding

hands, without direction or a place to call

my own; and so I wander through the spaces

in the darkness of this brightly lit sky;

remaining blind from truth and fantasy's

split personality;

It captures me, enraptures me in its folded

space; and do I, dreaming leave this shore;

to wander aimlessly as I did before the night

set in?

All power granted to men; is but a trifle

compared to the seizures of my decaying mind;

so I will walk, barefooted through the streets,

empty of sanity's small decency provided.

Beneath the bleeding arms of death;

risen comfort, and a slave to honesty,

to be transpired through prophecy and

youth's urgency to roam; it doesn't

connect with what the good people say;

it's fractured form will leave decaying

lies to resonate through time's encircling

skin; and though we die, triumphant

forces will us to remain through word;

and deed decays so subtly within power

of a sound; glanced upon the bricks of

our corrective information;

I flow into you;

gather you up for the slaying;

All my life bleeds out;

and you are mine.

I cradle you; and rock you

through eternity.

Inside my soul; your revival resonates;

into the skin it transpires, until I'm left with

my desire, overcoming me; with anxious footprints

in the darkness of this world's uncaring eye,

I seek to travel through to dreams that have not come.

Within the dark passages of the mind's ensnaring hold;

we shed our light on one another's form; and your

suppleness surprises me. Its letting go of sharp

lines; its patterns in the mind's edge; its simplicity.

Do not detract me from these visions' memory;

I will let loose the howling I've kept within my breast;

but let me go; loose me from the stronghold of the earth,

so I may fly freely upon the winds of desire's grace;

then beastly howling may come yet; as I divulge my sins.

And when I wash the walls; this cave seems closer

to what I had dreamed it was, and so I paint the shadows

and the droplets of water where they were; and

cast myself upon the work as it were bleeding,

and I infuse myself in song; and watch the world shift,

let the body move lightly between the rungs.

Instilled in magic; and in mystery; I dance with you,

collapsing with the truth of your disinvolvemnt;

between us; paired, in isolation's retreat,

A scuffle, and a foothold for the weak, news rests;

we rest upon our bed; where demons play tricks

and keep my head from sleeping; we play our own,

as if we were hellbent; arrested for the night

within my gown,

My savior; and my sainted foot soldier;

the world endowed you to betray my love;

my savior; and my god within the darkness,

remain with me, we'll settle all our scores.

The smoke rises; and the world burns,

slowly receding into ashes, and I turn to you;

and ask will there be purpose; and finality

to our love's enclosure? And when the walls

seal shut to heaven, will I find you there

among the holy and the chosen?

This bleeding ashen field; my soul's surrender,

and the calming of the midnight gaze; When earth

has come to claim my body from its remainder of days;

I lock hands with you, and I will have you through

the end;

Another night; another hand in mine;

another loss, another time;

Bleeding me out to the edges of divinity.

In isolated dreams, where foolish thoughts

corrupt the mind; in play and in assembly for the

gradient to life; Where captives sing Her Majesty's

song of death; to discover what was best to be left

unknown. Her improper voice repaired and swollen

with our sound; a round about, a capricious sting;

What's left of reason hasn't left the mire untouched,

it comes in veiled whispers under current of the mind;

you speak, and in time the nuances surprise you;

Here, within the valved hum of the mind's edge.

Like a blade; like lightning from above, it rains.

It's our parade, and you've come to see

my flesh; and feast on our desired taint;

to hold me fast between the sheets, as other

lovers have; to complete the words we've spoken

through the pages of our book; all incomplete

without the meaning derived into manifest.

What the good lord said would drive the demons

out; for you to bed me while the full moon

has its way, there's no seduction save the

memory I've constructed through my will;

the sole solution to this fantasy's final purge.

Redeem me now,

and I will light the room with my ecstatic fever;

come into my bed; and drink the final draft of our

destruction.

With jars of flesh made ice, with cold corruption

of the skin; and distinctly called for mutterings

on the wind; we purchase what was ours, not long ago;

we purchase for the price of our souls; and we

have lived for years without the knowledge of the

gods; why would they harm us; now? What covetous eye

could hold these thoughts forever without claim;

And so superiority of throne and fame; and death's

destructive glare becomes a birth right; and an heir

who sits; with blood spilled at his feet; could crown's

magical weave keep him from the deaths he has instilled;

dissonant waves run threads;

Have you come to assess the living and the dead;

and the ticketer; triumphant with the pen;

scouring the street for sinners and the repentant.

The beauty, the ugly; the all;

Dressed up in fine cloth, and buried;

beneath the waves.

And so it goes, our sweet surrender to the aether

plane, that which debases all of us in our due time;

Corruption.

How far we fall; how hard;

It is blatant to the eye of the observer, mostly,

how much we lose; And to complain as it is slowly

seeped away from us, or in a moment's transpiration

cast out with violence from the sun.

Let the cold wind break me to pieces,

but leave you by my side.

The beauty of intent, and necessitated pain;

it lingers longingly on the tongue, for my arousal;

and when you captivate my blood, I pretend to lose

interest; in what you're doing. So long ago,

we were none but friends; playing in the ashes of this

dead world, and then you blew the breath of love

down into my throat; and made me choke on your words,

as if they were a toxin running loose;

In a sea;

beneath the waves;

there I wander.

And let go the silly notion of friendship; only love

remains, and it is a cold, and overpowering love;

dependent on the blazing fuel of death.

What a frightful feeling; to be betrayed in love!

To be devoured by a dark plague, encircling and

ensnaring the heart; and you have ensnared me;

darling dove, ripped apart the insides of my soul.

White puss;

Festers on the sore that you required of my flesh;

with no sympathy, you stole the offspring I had borne;

and with a twisted hand, I had surrendered so much more;

Your kiss; lingered like the darkness of the night;

overshadowing all that had sprung up before beneath the day,

and to this sour spill of blood and decay, I became corrupted;

my flesh wilts, and I turn brown and dead inside;

insanity takes my mind, and turns it black; and soot

collects upon my heart; to train it to love nothing else;

Withered drops of dew in the morning light.

Entitled to a destructive end,

feasting on the crows; feasting

unto death's hour. And so we

make appointment for the finality

of form; and consciousness abides;

with small restraint;

Come quickly, death;

Resonate within the bones and sing,

your dismal track; come quickly.

And a devastated purr issues forth,

an isolated sting; a helpless cry;

you, come to me and mingle in the

waters of the mind, as it pulls me

under; such a serene call; you are.

I've dressed for this; I've said my

final piece into the darkness,

and am still not ready for

this final purge.

We've marked our second end; the birth of fire

and two entrapped reconnaissants enslaved;

you were with me when the wall crumbled; and the

cave took us slowly out of breath;

My love;

Entreat me with your last kiss; hold me under

with you, and let us see the end; and there,

in shadows in the dark we'll make a compass;

to find our way home.

And when the sea arises; to swallow up our

days, we will remember nothing.

Disseminated youth; and for the stars to shine

upon we wash ourselves in the seawater; our

bodies losing form as age completes the cycle

of our destruction; the land locks us in its

cold, wet sand; dissatisfaction creases rings

around our brows; you hold me next to you,

but I'm an unwilling participant; you've

enslaved me through the years as your own

concubine; what washes out beneath me is your

blood infused with poison;

Take me;

Down into the fiery pit; and rape me, the essence

of your song as you devour; then purge me of your

wanton desire, and leave me there as dead;

This is the third time that I've beheld your face

like such; and in it, I see myself frowning down

upon me. Swallow, and purge.

Walls of violence; death

It creeps through sheets and skewers;

The dusty walls; of the dead, and the living

who happen on the words of our salvation;

it rocks us, and throws us under the sea;

To be at peace;

There is no peace in death or life,

everywhere is violence; and the throes

assault us in our dreams.

Even in sleep;

What was contained in the holy books

a simple surrender, to pain.

Consumed by fire; burning brightly in a flame,

is it past the hour for salvation's touch;

to pull me in, and soothe me in a pool;

to quench the flames in other ways but my

burning flesh;

I roll off, and out of bed to see my shadow;

and the shadow of a lark upon my wall;

we breathe in synchronicity; imagined what

his purpose is, and what the story tells;

A feast, for angels and demons; set inside,

and they devour whole my body and my blood;

what will be of me, I can only wonder,

but shall I pray?

What comes after destruction;

of flesh and soul's deliverance?

There is eternal creation;

it spawns through the destruction

of earth and sun.

What may come of us, as we enter

the last moment of our breath;

And the soul is reclaimed to God?

A divine alteration of course; the ice breaks

leaving nothing of the world I'd been ensnared by;

Heat melts the iron bars and my flesh;

Nothing's melting what shouldn't be,

but I approach his majesty, and plead;

where is my forgiveness; what sins I

have committed have been relayed, but I

don't want to burn; and I don't want to

pay the price.

Damnation churns; and the underbelly

of the beast lies naked and exposed;

come what may, what may come is soon.

All the excitement has passed;

and I am leading into another bout of mania;

it should be, exciting;

the world around me full of bliss,

desire run rampant;

and the mark of ecstasy

bleeding at the wrists.

Instead, I've cut corners;

am consumed by shades of doubt,

about my life; my world;

my writing.

What purpose does it all have;

what meaning is derived between word pairings;

They are abundant,

but do they speak of truth;

what is truth?

And for all the lies,

who will care either way,

when the darkness has consumed me?

To dance about the pyre, let it engulf us

in the flames; or push it under, into the sea,

and let the waves wash over; to douse ourselves

and burn without a care for yesterday's

unascended gods; to dream, without reason;

to let the chaos come crawling through the night.

Save me from this madness;

If there is a god, help me surrender to the spear,

and hold fast to what I've been forgiven; my sins'

amounted gain; And therein lies the madness of my

anscestors; belief in things unseen, unheard;

and when the calling comes; all dead gods go rushing

into the grave.

Who is mad; who proclaims your grace;

and even now, I doubt; the insanity of such a plea.

Let the cool winds blow,

to soothe my soul; from this unforgiving

fate that's been handed down upon me;

has God forsaken me, to tear me to pieces

in the last hour of my death, or is there

some redeeming quality buried deep within?

Treading on water without a sign of breaking ground;

forgiveness is a stain I've not been promised will

remain; and for the short hour here; I will breathe

without doubt of my suffering to come.

But there is doubt; and hope;

Let the cool winds suffer me my last entreaty,

to make a large stain small and show me the way

out of endless poverty of spirit.

And with love comes certain death,

the burning of a world cannot entertain;

her breath rises and falls, as the night

meets daylight, and we will burn;

Unless the hour of gods and men are kind;

And sink us in a ship beyond the shore,

to dream of fish as night falls on the sea,

and let the blood seep endlessly into the sea.

Let the sun rise again; tomorrow,

to claim us in our passage on the ship;

and breathe the breath of an isolated summer's

night; into the sea; we'll float toward shore.

And if this blessing come to bear fruit;

we'll worship; upon the sea, we'll bleed

into the ocean.

And in her eyes, she'll see a shade of grey;

what once was me, but withered in the grave,

and we'll hold hands this last time through

forever's fading gaze; until we meet again,

until the crowds are shepherded away;

And I pray we will meet again in ecstasy,

calm winds beneath our shoulders and cool

waters to our brow; and we can swim in the

sea with the angels;

For fortunes may turn,

and maybe there is hope within this breast

of mine; to turn.

The white fog diminishes, so I can see your eyes;

in this clear, crisp morning where all is bright,

I offer you my heart, and there conception of a new

displaced harmony of our love;

What contradicts the deeper parts of my sin,

is letting your face into my mind; and seeing

the waters cool and paralyze my soul;

I dip myself in, letting go of all my pain;

the torrential rains that come and go,

devouring the soul; I bleed a new shade

of pain, and what lets blood pass is not

the same.

Wash my skin in your milk;

and make a curtain for my nakedness;

shelter me from these foul winds;

that walk upon my mind, and stake

your claim unto my loneliness,

until the end; and there, upon the waters;

we can feed our young the milk

you've laid me in.

The necessity of our enraptured spaces,

the way you move me to complete my sentence;

and trips in darkness become with you,

a movement into serenity; be mine,

forever in our time here; and let me

sing a hymnal to the earth; and to the sky,

far into the grasp of the divine;

To say what love is, is divine; in coming

after the stain of my disinvolvment.

So sorry; for the changes of mind, and body;

it is small comfort; I know,

the crystal clear delusions of a mark;

left on the body; and so to stain with ink.

Dream with me, beneath the ocean's span;

sink into the night of our ascension,

and if to say we're damned; let it be,

at the moment our lips last touch;

let that be the blessing before our final

curse; dressed in your words of love.

We weave our thread, stitch ourselves;

the holy books don't register, yet we

do not tear the walls down; not completely;

in fornication's eye, we trapped the skin

between loose lips and the mind; your sink,

is my surrender song; and we danced;

among the stars and moon, we danced;

Our fervent fever to the tune,

Of letters singing in the midnight air;

and nestled in, a drowning bout of

sour despair; I sang and crawled with you

beneath the bedsheets; while you gave up

your youth; to see it through,

And now I'm dying through the madness

of the mind; it's killing me slowly,

and in time will drown me out completely;

So drink, and become feverish with me,

beneath the cold, hard light of resentment's purge.

Let me draw you holding up the stitches of my seam,

your cold hands pressed against the wound;

and your eyes; their perfect gaze, surrendered

to my form; hold me there; in perfect grace.

And when the light comes beaming in,

the shadows fall and ash turns into flesh;

we're two imperfect lovers in the dark,,

but let us grow together and welcome all;

the chaos and corruption to resound in our

minds; flow through and feelings to reside;

For you, my wife;

And better than I, to resonate your screams;

love and destruction, pain and doubt; to spread

ourselves thin as ice on the first freeze;

let lips caress, and the dawn take us; I will

have you through the end; and after, take you

through the end; and after. With me.

I hold you in, for your breath;

the concrete stay between us;

but you don't realize my meaning,

when I do not let go;

Stay with me a while; while

the song plays out in strings,

capture me as once you had;

enraptured in a maze of summer's

breath, slowly bleed my breath;

while we gaze upon the night.

Come with me to bed,

and let the night bleed into

tomorrow's domain; you'll shield

my mind from its decay; and keep

the strong hands of yours beside

me as I weep into the night's

terrible mares;

We can together pray to this

foreign god of wisdom; for the light

and understanding to overpower

the demons in my dreams; come with me,

we'll make a shrine to him or her;

let night bleed out and day glisten.

The naked truth of lies and deception;

I wanted another, and would have had her,

but you stepped out, with feelings; overpowering

emotion set inside, and I bled too.

This common enemy; we dance with; my muse,

is such an incomplete apparition of what love should be;

and yet it lingers on the air, in shadows of a form,

so incomplete; yet so realistic in her way.

I dine with you tonight; not as muse,

but as complete as love is; I dine on your

body, beneath me in the shadows of our room;

and we could wash ashore, together in the rain;

and let this fire go; this gnawing ghost of pain.

Our love lies lost;

and under the cushion of the sea, within the shells

of dreams; it is awakened; when the first breath

of seafoam spills out; I lie with you, and take you

through a realm of sea creatures; with me.

And in the darkness of the ocean deep, I ask you

to surrender your sound; let us pray to the most

high god; and in the sea's enclosure find our way;

Govern me, and keep me true to the light of our

new morning; let it pass and through the night

we'll caress each other; and through our touch,

reminding me of the severe restrictions on my pain;

love me as the one time lovers do;

Again, we'll make a sentiment; against each other's

crown; pry softly at the waves that split our skulls;

and when the ocean pass; and shore's high sands

seduce us into night's grasp; we'll be safe

against each other's skin through the long night.

The incompleteness fades; as though I've longed

forever for this kiss; and into you I dive, and

into heaven's sweet above I fly; with you, at last

my dreams, they may subside; and call down peaceful

ones in their stead. With you; I fly.

Downward drifting depression at its valley; I contemplate

my own lack of faith in what has been given, and purge

the dreary wanting for another's hold on my skin;

I kiss you so completely in this hour of my departure.

Stay a while;

I'll stay a while; beneath the shade and sun and moon;

and fortune's failing sin may be a memory; I'll laugh

as though I hadn't in ten years, or more; and dream

the victory; the reclaimation to a throne.

Love's last purge.

We derive ourselves in circles; and I your

knowing other half, we split this cost and I conclude

your breath to coincide with mine; adrift in an endless

sea of isolation; I find your hand reaching out to save me;

So save me from the depths of my depression;

And into the birth of another trial

between lovers; and into the death of our

denied substance in a dream; I'll call your name,

if you would have it; and raise my glass to you;

and seize your name.

Bedside manners spark a flame; it holds me

in a tight array of dissonant discord;

but the thoughts fray; and I need you like

never before; fold me under and carry me;

and drink the wine, and let us sup for a time;

we'll drink to gods and goddesses divine.

Out of mind; not out of sight,

and he reclines;

A mist of madness comes upon him in a dream,

and she's forsaken in a fold of light and ashes;

he can't continue this walk without her;

She is the wind, and the rain, manifest;

she moves the earth, and peels the lightning

from the sky; she's just a girl who keeps

the dishes clean, and the toilet scrubbed;

And to her death, and mine;

she feels like god is in disguise;

and moves the earth beneath me,

as I lie in shadows under.
