I.
In cold rains cicadas shrill,
red leaves shaking, drearily still.
At the Hour of Great Waste (sky’s sun-ray laced)
A hundred Li’s away from Tongguan’s lofty gates
We part our ways amongst the barren hills

II.
When I plucked flowers from my crisscrossed hair,
(they were still blooming like yesteryear’s pear)
Your carriage passed by my garden, whips lashed
on your steeds (in golden halters they're restrained).

My Lord you were young, without fear or suspicion,
Could still dance and swirl, or play jewelled zither
I (too young to be your lady) knew not what sorrow is
Had only drank tender tea, picked from last pentad.

III.
Fifty strings on zither play in vain
Thunder cloud brings a sudden rain
At the hour Ying and Yang entwined
Tears rolling, my sight they blind.

my lips quake as i bow to you
my heart shakes and trembles like a leaf
nature's temples wait and remind us of simplicity
are our minds as tranquil as a lake
do they reside in peaceful quiet
can we sense the edges of the wild
lines are changed and bodies rearranged daily
have you come into your power lately

i swallowed my pride but not my feelings
i give thanks for this healing
as my fingers lick your spine
i am blinded by your fury
we combine memory and poetry
lights are dancing
hunger abates and we must
face our fears with fealty
this light is bright
this life is mindless
kind of like a spiral
these burning brains
drain our storehouses
while we waste away our resources
like porous hourglasses
drip time like honey

i am a sign waving in the wind
singing my rhythms
from deep within
the water and the earth
are permanently hurting
shrouds of candid letters
leftovers that will forever
remain lonely
as isotopes of poetry
are the ions of everything

we are clumps of chaos
born to waste away
back into what made us
at the end of our stay
our brief coalescence
sentience we say
would be no less meaningless
without the words to describe it that way

I have only one match left

One gave me a sparks and nearly caught fire, but instead turned out to be too fragile to use, so I set it aside in hopes that it would give me a flame one day when its ready

The one before that was lit too brightly and burnt my fingers, making me drop it on the ground to burn out on its own, scorching the ground below me with licks of orange and red and passion I don't know how to handle

That one match on the counter, I'm far too afraid to ignite, and instead allowed it to grow wet and unusable to even strike against the rough to attempt to set it ablaze

All the others were duds and broke too easily, so I had to throw them all away, unable to be used for the warmth it should have provided

I have only one match left

How will I ever light my way?

Love me, girl, all the time
Send me roses when I die
It's no reason to break your heart
But I'm gonna leave you when mine won't start

There's a fire in the sky
That helps me see your eyes
But I won't walk away
If you find the right thing to say

I'm not a man of wealth and taste
But what I have doesn't go to waste
When I get my hands on what I want
I protect everything I've got