let us be junkies
bleed together
tremble as our blood is cleansed
from this, our senseless craving.
there is heaviness upon our chests
our breath staggering
from the jagged sharpness of memories
peeling the fresh edge of our wounds
freely flowing now,
leave us just the hint of death
upon our pale, spent skin.

alone.
i feel alone.
i am muted as i recede
from the fury of my addiction,
hearing alone my agonizing cry
my flesh shredded
my bones crushed
my tears crusted
its meaning has long left me
curled and cold in a corner
with the wan smile of surviving...
there is no pity left in the melting.

somehow, i forgot
how hell would figure in this,
my make-believe heaven.
where with each gaze,
you bare my soul
with each breath,
you burst me raw and dripping
with your fingertips
you strip me into my elements
and have me dance buck-wild
soaked in the perfect concoction
of madness and affection
stewed in boiling buckets of ***,
as thick as love slathered
upon our irreverent whispering lips...

but hell has arrived
silent, thoughtful, real...
i feel it creeping in this empty room
where  the fulminant joy of your laughter
fades into a hollow echo
and your eyes are somewhere else
where the light of the sun
is not blue but grey.
you are oozing from my open vein
and i am numb
hell has arrived
at the break of a dark winter.
i succumb to my fate
an unrepentant, miserable ******
wallowing in shaking fits,
my vulnerable shell in a million shattered shards by my feet,
looking at the permanence of your tracks
as you walk away...

when i break,
i will in a million tiny bits
in a cloud of oblivion even,
and lose the gravity
that pulls me into the orbit
of your spell.

maybe
when you come this way again
there will be a dust left
a speck of remembrance
that will cling, tenacious.
pray, let that be my soul
carry it amongst many
who wandered,
and who thank you like i do
for the journey
near the edge of heaven...

O, Precious...
Grant my hands
the pleasure to roam the roots of your locks upon my chest
Let me breath the air that sustains your beating heart..
It is my air, it is my heart.

Your warmth is my bed
where our sweat beads collect in exhaustion
My sweet baby... the twitching is exquisite
when you caress them with intention
Please bury me yet with your cradling leg, possessive and proud,
as I gaze into endless space
where the impossibility of meeting you
is rendered mute by our fate.

There is a reason for your scent
dancing in the playground of my brain
Or the placid sound of your slumber
Or the exactitude of your arms draped upon my grateful chest
They seem so right for each moment of perfection
that bears your name and mine.

I live for the thrilling anticipation of your closeness
Your hair upon my face,
your body in its sensual splendor
melded into my heathen helplessness.
And your face...
Ah, your face, Beloved,
the face of gods suspended in orgiastic playstrings,
is all that matters to me.

I am once again taken.
I am immortalized in love.

your smile is full, free and robust
in this shot i took of you in the mountains
the hardy foliage of the pines
are just as alive to meet the spark in your eyes
when you look at me
and the coldness of that winter upon us
makes that blazing warmth in your chest
so unbearably urgent
for my existence.

i remember us wandering into caves
finding treasures in damp and sacred coves
where brilliant colors still shine
even in the dark of the rocky depths.
and the whisper of the ancient waterfall
the closeness of the stone passages
the height of the natural bridges
wraps us into the incredible fortune
of even being there together
in all this creation.

i miss the vision of that funnel cake
upon your incorrigible lips
tainted with the heat of cocoa
and my hungry heart.
ah, such sweet confection
shared like communion
between the best of friends…
your smile still dwells on top of my world
where i could see far and wide
across states, across space, across my life
and just sigh.

i am seeking my peace
in this shot i took of you in the mountains
where i once held you in the deepest places
timeless and true
and your smile is all i have left
to dream again.

i just need that right moment
to run from this perfect amalgam of confusion and doubt
this overcooked stew of panic and frenzy
hide in a space where i could infinitely freeze
and stare out cold, stunned and lifeless
feel my heart take its sullen pause
and cry...****, howl even
into the unreachable depths of sorrow
at the mind-boggling finality
of losing you...

i need to get over this.
the ending has got to be so clear
no ifs, no buts, no more gut-wrenching self-persecution
i need that ******* perfect moment
to nail this ******* coffin.

i need that precious moment to grieve
cash in my pure unadulterated mourning
my monumentally epic funeral
one that would put your self-loathing to shame
as i shed my shameless tears for you
for losing you,
the incredibly amazing you...
and for losing us,
the one-in-a-million Us.

when can I have that moment?
please?

i still pray for you
my silent plea for blessed peace
to fill the crevice of your heart
i wrap with the attention of jesus
summoning lazarus.
he, of the same unequivocal faith
knows the depth of my invocation.

i wake up trembling at night
to the urgency of my dreams
and my hands reach out for your name
frantic like the parting of the sea
like losing the relevance
of the vows we made in better days
to something so forgettable, so trivial.

in the onslaught of madness
between dawn and the memory of your eyes
i return to the comfort of your hands
holding mine in the fleeting vision
of daniel and the lions.

i still pray for you
that you still have faith in eternity
in the serenity of Us
that it is still possible
if we believe.

i still pray for you.
i still believe in you.

my hand seem steady now
filled with dark earth
that i toss reluctantly 
into the grave you dug
for my heart.

i see it its last pulsations
almost as if it found its epiphany
in the deep shadows
where you once found me
with your smile. 

the cold february air
wraps it with an essential numbness
as it drifts off to a silence
as loud as the anguished howl
in my perseverant brain.

i mourn for my heart
slipping from your shaky grip.
strange how strong inertia feels
when you hit bottom, 
the sound of sadness
is unbearable.