My lungs are like oceans
Parted by my stomach
My heart is conch shell
Calls to my lungs to
Crate a wave of relief
When I need it most

Your every pore, my tongue wishes to explore... to know.

Whilst my hands long to touch the nucleus of your soul.

Let my ears hear the harmonies of your unbroken moans.

I shall inhale the sap and nectar of Love's tree, greedily, as your falling flowers' pollen bury me; within a living tomb of ecstasy.

We will see, all of the animals and beasts, we lovers can be; when "Human" nature runs free.

Love is the investment, without a guaranteed return. So check the markets, and seek consultation; lest your capital gets burn.

And your love... unrequited and unheard.

Seconds sire seasons, life by stroll or sprint fades.

In search of higher reasons, none are ignorant of the null totality of yesteryear.

Time is neither favour nor fear; for Oak roots expand their domain, just as vast canopies usurp heaven’s terrain; a babe’s bones are made strong, even more so as toddlers play, yet still shatter, to dust decay, by the passage of Time’s decades.

Live this life, for better or worse; surmount the strife, and derive blessing from curse.

History is the religion of the Survivors; the blasphemy of the Defeated; the faith of the Victors.

History is the suspicions of the Non-Believers.

White, longing to be stained.
Blank, lacking character, hoping one bestows you a name.
Lined, and confined 8 11, words shall make you free to fly and soar straight into heaven.
A juxtaposition, your very being has attained
Words defined and combined, Paper's Poem shall be yours;

The Unclean, mine.

I spent the day with you, waiting for the Sun to set; that I might kiss you in the darkness it left behind.

Stone cold... these are the affection of my bed, nestled beside the fireplace, upon stone cold I lay my head; your warmth it no longer knows.

The longevity of nights have passed; now cruel and aching memories are your laughs; now, before my hearts retrieves its mask, a final kiss to you, my past.

The greatest gift for Christmas was long ago bequeathed; given by Jesus Christ, our Lord, that all might receive. So please, accept His charity; and from sin be free... and be on this Christmas day, truly merry.