To live as an artist,
   but die as a man

Dust forever chasing
  —what heaven began

(Center City Philadelphia: January, 2015)

She was your water,
But I could see the salt.

She was your heartbeat,
But I'd spilled the blood.

She was your siren,
But I was the shipmate.

She was your song,
But I knew all the words.

She was your heaven,
But I'd faced the hell.

She was your star,
But I could feel the heat.

She was the moon,
And I was Mercury.

I was always closer,
But she always felt the light.

I was your best friend,
But she was yours.

Fulness
is a burden
such lightness
is emptiness

Even when I tried to deny it, you were always there
You are my hidden sunrise on a day filled with clouds

B l e e d
o           r
r            e
e           a
D o o m

L o v e
o
N o t e
e
R e a d

          S
       h   c
     i        r
   v  a  n  e
  e             a
r                m    

A n x i e t y
          g
          n
          o
          r
          e
   ­       d

h                t        
u                o
r                 r
t h o u g h t              
i                 u
n                r
g                e

This fragile heart
sometimes bursts into
the tiniest shards
                  of infinity
clear as crystal light
yet empty
as an ocean, waterless
longing
to be filled and filled
over and over
as I would fill you
to the brim
overflowing with
enough life
and love to heal
a thousand
                aching moons

Telling me to pick a card,
    always giving her mine.
                
                Stealing my heart.

I never was a full deck after that.

I met my lovely ex in the market,
She saw me,
I saw her,
We met,
We smiled.
She wore a cervical collar in her neck,
I had a stent in my heart,
She could not move her neck to greet me,
My heart could not beat for her.