Lungs balancing life and death
A scream stretched out,spreading
The dog's throat like a malady
As it howled into cold empty air....

Mothlet-like owl midges fizzling in and out of the waves
   that shuffle the moon's shed reflection,
hovering and imitating like a wettened rorschach--

with disembodied tiny teeth for feet
suckling from the scurvy gums
where shadows are allowed to be kings.

Kings that observe a godess body that spans the whole sky with ******* made of crinkled ash dripping latex that falls
then cuts into the grass to
                                        spread life--perfection spares no time for the impatient.

Glistening stream,mucky dewlap of the mountain carving a caricature of someone  praying for rain and dreaming of a metamorphoses into ice.

With the night comes tide. Comes time. Comes death. Comes life.

If you were to sit down in one spot
anywhere in the world and not move
for another second of your life

from there on in--
you would see so much beauty and pain
You'd wonder what you ever did to be

as lucky as you had been.

I feel like a beakless baby bird
       Suffocating in it's egg; it's womb,it's tomb.

I hate how my voice gets when I speak to strangers so I prefer to stay as quiet as possible

I'm so glad you called me out of the blue today it's felt so long since I've been comfortable

enough to speak without thinking too far ahead.

Peaceful mornings more vivid to picture than yesterday;

This time last year--stuck holding on to hope without reason,
Sipping leftover champagne walking you to the bustop

And gone you went just as that version of you is gone still

And it is beyond debate that I'm in a better place now.

Fluted cap dripping skull matter thin as blood
as ice, as milk,
we sat rotting in the sun
alone and pretending we werent
lest we be left out again
not again, my lover
my motherly carer my sister my brother
please see that the first to die does so
in the other's arms
corrupt and corroded beyond
ae looking glass charm.

The night floats through the day
    as
Sun skins the dirt underfoot
  and a whole winter seeps
our morphine stasis,
    planted cosmically in place
   forever and ever for a day,my love that I must one day forget
    
that one day must die as the earth dies as i must

     only to be reborn as we dreamt

In the cold ashen season where coal
   lines the cracks along our wall.
Heavenly July days that seem so far a way.

You gathered my thoughts,nirvana shepherdess
   that shed lively shards of grass over formica;
You held me warm as the flies peeled my skin,
    budding me close warm enough to make the needed death
feel not so drastic, feel calmer than words could express.

Pretty life goes by--
A cord wire and silence
Between you and I

May God have mercy on our souls,
Boredom is the drug with most effect,
By the time we know we're sinners we'll both be dead.

These drugs that make you think like a different person;
Whyyyy would you ever think you were worthless?
Tomorrow's only the same if we leave it that way,
And God knows just how perfect you are to me...

Now and forever
Now and forever
Nooooww and forever
Now and forever
I swear, I swear.

(Dododoo doo dododoo do)



* farewell

On and on and on
Fall Fall Fall
Coursed trek under ceaseless fire,
attempted to debate
and ended up
in the same place the
   next day as it was the day before--
death is the only thing
only to be made sacred as a coping method
--I cannot trade my remaining days
to look into the eyes of the dead once more--
of the living thru divinity absorbed

Same as the aeons-old saints that travelled endless caves and exited poorer

as they who sit legs in a basket
with homemade-shoelace-diadems crowning their head in the corner of their bedroom floor
as is the meek and deceiving and loving&caring and the useless.

Yes,I used to speak without thinking but I concussed for two years straight so how could you blame me?
On and on it's like we never stop falling
  even when we go our separate ways.
Time takes away everything, and there's no way around that.
And I was so young once and I was so inlove once that I
Forgot conjoined-twins were born together before later-on being severed...
I'm cold as the winter, it was a cold-*** December without you for the first time in a long time,
--won't find your way to what you're looking for when you don't know where you're going--

the fallout kills us before us the ******* bomb explodes.

We pluck stars from the sky and split them into sugary atoms and return the scrambled constellations like ill-fitting clothes yet you refuse to be proud of me anymore
a genius builded on words alone then kicked in head until he's no brain left hahahaha ***** who cares who cares for arguments at any rate

When we were born into a wolrd where it's so easy to get the last word in

Nodding off,
Falling to the concrete
Alone in slow motion;
  (My skin pours with the raindrops)
And for a minute we all fall
Together. Light as the cells
That stitch our flesh.

Along the grass,beneath the sky
The draconic sun vitrified
The lover figurines.
Flattening them
Adjacent to the surface,
Skin blent in crackly tessellation,
Deforming to fit the sphere,adhering to it's
Wondrous silence.
Frail limbs minute,heart's heavy as whole islands.

Is it not love embodied to lay defined as an image?
To be held as shatterless glass,reflecting it's deity's melting
In progress, 'neath the star that impelled a shelter,
The star that paved their meeting,that overlooked
Their life and death in a predetermined stasis,
The divinity that shimmered underfoot at all times,
The star that held all places of the earth in one.

The figurine lovers, faceless mannikinis
Sentenced to worship forever without a choice,
For prior love, for prior sins,
It matters not--they rot and twist as the Sun's play-dice.

With hair of a million spider legs-
Eyes with irises like Saturn's looping ring,
She sings and begs to differ my good morning;

Her tachy tic toc steps scraping the pavement
as the brady day fades
and sun strings in, washes away all that ever was

and I'm caught here in the stasis between sleep,dream
   and being
where morning is neither a blessing nor an omen...

Night's alone, i am cold as the breeze between
Skeleten and steel chain,

But with you near, time goes by gentler,
it is easy to be in the other's company,
Held and holding,both pretending we arent insane

Until
Boredom's hegemony sets in and rocks us asleep;

And what a joy-- to be linked,two minds complete by dreaming softly of the other.

x-ray room sensory overload
scan the trouble in the hope that it goes
but it never ever does

I read your faux-punk movements
easily as I read the mirror's expressions
I'm sick of your questions

I thought I answered all I had to when I said I wished we'd met when we were both younger and naiver to the way of the world and it's tiny inhabitants that want to prove themselves all too brave; I'm as shameless as a dying something--anything.

I say too much to anyone but it doesn't bother me anymore cause I don't see the sense in staying any longer than I have to.

Fortonuate palms skim the dogeared surface
Of the snakes and ladders without clear direction--

Hot tea and foggy glasses. Familiar lips
That look as young as ever when they smile.

Sun melting in the clouds like mollases
While the breeze lifts and plays with

Our clothes.

Hollow words served as concierge
For this used up body-- orbs and a silhouette,

That's all you get as it's all I was perceived as

And all I've left to give.

But here I don't have any will to offer.

I've gave you everything and how peaceful

It is to be contempt replaying another day.

Reality
was made to be
               deformed.        


I had a dream where Freddy Kruger called me hot
And I never knew whether to be flattered or offended.
I slapped him, but I don't recall my intention in doing so.

To live life in creaky,
jaunty movement;
We are all just flashes
awkwardly colliding.

Walking up the river clyde
Early morning,I believed I
Had just discovered how ghosts
Smell: like ants, funnily enough.


Life's a funny miracle,
I thought I had it budded
To my palms -- but it unravels
Uglier, more amess by the year.

Eyes roam the room
Clockspun, mapless
Treasures found in
The things left behind

It is not her fault that you miss her

There are no borders without reason

And the reasons are not one way nor simple.

When she was gone it was like experiencing the worst grief
All over again and it took
So long to settle in that it was over.

Shedding skin, depersonalization
Winter cried it's last breath to a
Window I shut closed.

Times up,you're alone
Again but what's the difference
And so I guess what's the problem

It's nothing new
Bleddry-empty
No more hate left
Alone and stranded

(I was

Now I am

So far passed

That stage I start

To find it funny)

Today is the horizon tomorrow and whatever before is all illusionary.

No gun in my hand no knife in my hand no food in my hand no money in my hand no ***** no **** no smoke no blow

Two cats on each shoulder one angel one devil but they both switch roles too frequently to catch up it's all good though

It's me who's decision maker in the end
And it's never been any different
I live with my regrets nightly til I learn
From them I just hope you're the same
But I'm done thinking we're the same
It was truly a waste of time
We've never been calibrated.

Catch me in the next life I'll hold the door open for you.

What is it that signifies that paradise yonder
In view but always out of reach?

I've grown so spoilt from love, I fall into being a child, I need to change
I've known it for years but never had to
Until I finally saw your face
I love you like you will never know

I was so lost without you, and I can
Strife and struggle for a reason now
Because I can't wait to be your man
Walking down the aisle and waiting
However long it takes for you for I know I'll wait assured,
Knowing if I'm ever gone too long you'll make it your life mission to find me
And when I see you again it doesn't matter who falls into who's arms first
I'm never letting you go
And every day onwards
I'm going to be your man.
And you'll never have to fret

I'm going to be your man.
And you'll never have to cry

I'm going to be your man.
And you'll never have to fear

I'm going to be your man.
And you'll never have to fight

I'm going to be your man.
And I'll never be weak again

I'm going to stay your man.

Scorched earth dripping from my fingers (you know how sometimes the smell of smoke can save lives?

and how sometimes I'd prefer I slept in)
glistening a while as the pieces crumble into invisibility.

I'm ever waiting

To become what I make, and

I don't mind if you let me think I'm winning the race until I've lost you
completely

If I don't speak please don't take it to heart, my best years are gone but you can have my ghost

If you wish to. I'll be here. Ever writhing, tied to my promise: no longer screaming. My silence

Is the best gift you could ever wish from me, if you knew me well-enough you'd know that to be true.

I've took on so many names and faces and manipulation tactics, at this point I'm a one-man-cult

Victimising shadows,

I'm kind to myself now but I still feel nothing mostly, but that doesn't have to be your problem
Any longer

Than you make it, I've grown up some with little option otherwise. I'm yours I'm yours I'm yours, for as long as I'm willing to be dragged around.

Fallen weak,

Ever-bleeding as long I can breathe without thinking.
Some memories are better left untouched and some regrets taken to the grave and some people left to crumble themselves to nothing again and again, undisturbed for as long as can be expected.

Don't wait up for me, you'll end up as good as a prayer for the dead to return.

eyeball rippening

      birthed

Through centre of flower.

Be my love,Lover

 cumshawed with horror of flames

eyes show a fear too great to tame

Let me be your aegis

 

i'll sow a hundred ideal

hearts for you,

deform my brain

      just to

Get closer to you,my

 

Sweet,sweet heart

 

i'd study you with the starriest stare’s

   always so

                caught up in a surprise;

We could go on

                           Living how you

                                                Live now

 

hearing the metropolis moving in polyrythm

  Outside your window,

 

 my ear closely tied,

listening,by your brazen chest

Sever the love that comes without obsession and never long for the inescapable consequences inbetween

My sunrise tied to a kite-string,
fate is something that i thought
only existed in hindsight

But when we first met i second-
guessed that, two figures walking
the city unaware we were ants

Compared to the buildings
that surrounded us. Such pretty
buildings i've passed so many times

and still as lost as one another.

So serene and young again
to talk and learn without thinking,
i don't mind returning to emptiness;

i held you and you held me...

Farewell until we meet again,
get home safe and when it gets late
sleep well and be kind to yourself.

Thank you for making this day a beautiful one and i can't wait for the next.

the boy has a match
                       in his back poc ket. hovering
                                                     janky steps
                                             sheathed by fluffy ice
                       chest reverb erates
as a single rain drop
                                   trickled in pinful loop...
theforestwaits
                            Undisturbed
not wanting to be burnt but he rations
      not wanting anything at all.
in destroying one makes                                something

                    whence once

     there was                                                       nothing. he

s t r i k e s the match aflame and alive,
    l
      o
         w ering it fit to spread
and surely cause his life some havoc... havoc...
havochavochavoc
                                  HAVOC
                               H A V O C
                                                   havoc;

   he ruminates the meaning of the word a while
and settles
    on it being better than boring old nothing.

A crow kissing skeleton skull
   And pecking dirt in the process.

Lace my ashes with flower seeds
   So that I may live a little longer.

I'd love to feel the rain
  Drip down my veins once again,
And make-believe the strid formed
    Will never dissapear. But

The dead don't get to decide that much
   Ahead.
Crow bleeding sunny black eyes, sing a song
As we

         Cross into morning. Crow, that maps my skin
          In sanskrit, please go a little softer. It's not
          That I never expected to die, it's just that I
           Never pictured it so sudden; and it's still

So long to go until I'm found...
Crow, would you be so kind as
To keep me company until then?

Comatosed with open gaze insinuating
Morphine daydreams,
With bristling hairs along arms
Before she had the chance to shave
and the folicles deactivated;
It is her womb she has devoted
For the public eye;
How it slowly rots, from incarnadine
-as the historical pictures aside her show-
To it's current viridian swelter;
Like an ugly robust bruise too tough to die.

Rupturing outward a torridness
Of legs and crooked fingers stuck to half-grip,
Scanning southly one notes globules of goosebumps
Haunting up her thighs,
Pricking cloudward and shivering implying that,atleast,
For a second whilst living she was aware of this—
Her impending fate.

Red,red,red lips
bud close to form a cute,poppish image,
Honouring those photographers who come and go—
Her tiny hands are posited to corner her tiny *******
As not to stir any further controversy.
The lady in the jar awaits the usuals,while blind
to her own doing so,

Mind overrun and on display like a faulty calculator
Via that dull, happy, gaze.

She smells up the room of exquisite perfume and
Quixotic trees and fields and roads and too much more to mention...

The fee these stranger's would scavage from their pockets
Just to be awarded a chance to touch
The fair lady’s skin and determine a better verdict
As to whether or not she meant all that much to the world
at all.

I pose high my chest of ragged ribbons
And unravel a fist to stretch out fingers in search
Of a hand glimmering pale like a lantern
throughout this grey
        empty space. Once a pavement, now as good as

Cloud. Frozen lake. Dust. Boiling ashes. Skeletons.

I am walking on the slashed frames of waves
As jesus once must have. Propelled to a miracle unwitnessned
To anyone but myself. I am impelled to corrode
Into a statue; to remain a rigamortic rotting jade jewel in the sun
Until I no longer can.
Until they found me...

Perhaps they'd dust me off, thaw the ice from my shoulders,
Rehydrate me and gorge me,
Restart the blinking light in my brain
And refrain me evermore from having to seek.

But seek I must, for the lonliness weighs me down
Further by the day. I take half as many steps now as when I began my voyage.
My memories are like ghosts of flames that play
Snakes and ladders and hide and seek.
I am the lighthouse man and I sail drunken--
A rubicund mishape of bone and scuffed thoughts,
I can feel every soul which once embodied and huddled this place.

It's like they are trying so hard to posses me but even
Their souls have been smouldered to whispers
So thin they ring as mutely as the surrounding mist,
So soft they vibrate akin to an infant’s pulse
Throughout these walls, these scrapyards, these crumbling arcades, this sandbox grey that begs for a scream.
The spirit of a tarantula trembles along my back and grazes it teeth against my shoulderblade,
Praying that I turn to confirm it's being –but it's a game I’ve long grown sick of–


I am the lighthouse man and I ceased having a face long ago.
What I recall of my reflection was a child so young and so sure
Of a different life that

I cannot be sure it's even me.

I am the lighthouse man; a puckered bulb balancing on too-big shoulders, that walked
  through barren flat closes and exited empty handed, the lonely poltergeist,
a bitter flab of skin.

I am the lighthouse man and I am the final Aspen leaf in the pond of the universe,
I see myself reflected in a sole star twirling underfoot and overhead
rowing my ears so thick with disfigured silence so that I wished I was born deaf.
I am the lighthouse man and my mind is a spinning fragment
    my eyes can merely follow and my floating steps merely trail.

It never changes tone here, I can only vaguely trace the time
By the occasional moon. Tonight it shines half chewed,
  Befitting the levelled star a sideways crown.
It is beautiful but I mustn't stop to admire, lest a survivor
Scavenger loses patience withholding the last of their scran.

I am the lighthouse man and I haven't eaten in years.

I am the lighthouse man and I bled for the first time yestardy.
I am the lighthouse man and my bulb ricocheted off the base of my skull
In a telling fairy tale dream. I felt static in my head
And my light's ink spilled across my hands and for a minute I thought
My light had gone out. I tasted blood,
Trickled down from my stinging nose and I had never been so scared.

I am the lighthouse man and I never knew I could die.

I am the lighthouse man. Once the world danced with magic and I was
A walking satellite that grew to want to dissapear.
I am the lighthouse man and my decrepitude is casted in my hands:
Black as the night from the dirt collected over the years.
The few slashes of skin clear enough to see look rust-like and obtrusive, outdone only by
My veins like wonky bruises that vine across the silhouetted bone;
Bridging gear to gear, clinking shivering knuckles
         That want nothing more than to surrender.

But I am only frostbit, not frozen.
Life was and thus must still be.
I am a raindrop, not the whole ocean.

I am a walking lighthouse inspecting and guiding empty seas,
A form without virtue
That ceased feeling it's metallic steps too long ago to recall.
A cubist teardrop falling down a grey giant's cheek,
Waiting to be captured and swallowed.

Or perhaps I am climbing uphill, slowly along the circumference of his forehead.
So slowly I cannot notice the rise. Perhaps I was destined to amble in hypnosis,
En route on this colourless limboid curve until I forget the concept of
             a destination, a soul, a matryr jester to rouse me awake...
             and perhaps it is then that I will be blessed with the heavenly bulb

Of the weeping giant on whom's flesh I disturb.
I am the lighthouse man and I dream of purpose.

I am the the lighthouse man with a penchant to levitate
I am the lighthouse man and I am a God without tool or reason.
I am the lighthouse man and I'll walk this limbo until my feet dissapear.

I am the lighthouse man and I am cursed.
I am the lighthouse man transitioning between lives and never knowing
Causality nor the answer. There are no questions to have;

I am the lighthouse man and I must have been a murderer in my past life.
I am the lighthouse man and I can feel my inner fuses twist,
Falling fainter and fainter by the second.
I am the lighthouse man and I will not make it another night.
I am the lighthouse man and I am a memory-bank full of nothing remarkable.
If I felt this months ago then perhaps I would make due with the my sojourn of an empty house, atop a parked car, and perhaps I would be content with rotting.

But now the moon shines so luminously bright and full and close! So very close!
I am the lighthouse man and I chase the moon.
I am the lighthouse man and I vaguely recall my mother saying 'do not eat the moon,
It will give you nightmares!’ and it all suddenly makes sense now.

The stars are all out tonight and they await my company. I am the lighthouse man and now I run.
I run run run run for the sky in ode to the rest of the bodies that abandoned this place.

Allow yourself to become a charcter.

Japanese frothy ice coffee in the summer
Watching the world continue to burn
As the spaces 'tween the paper disinter
and I continue to reap the ideals i sowed

Growing cold to the bones, lungs ache
As my lips wisp a chilly whisper thin as
Phone wire and defeated but riding still tall
Came way too far to give out like cheap cigars

I had to pretend to be so many different people
To realise why and where exactly i didn't fit in;

Optimism keeps me through til the night,
When morning spreads my chest it slits my heart like a knife
But in my soul I can feel the guiding gaze
Of my grandmother, her memories embedded to remind me of

A constant reason to always want to stay alive.

I've got limited time and truthfully I fear I'll never live it
The way i should be,

But by the end of this season I will wear the welts of
My lessons, I will try better to be

Who I should be

The tremble of her skin...
Like rain tapping off of
    a jigsaw puzzle formed in glass.

O  how we have aged
         mother Earth...

He plays himself

With a mask like soaked clay

And faux tears on-command,

All you can do to cope with the hindsight

Is to say you were brave for sticking with it

When you weren't brave enough for the alternative,

Voice like a whisky-croak and words that

Ring of sweet nothings but really mean nothing at all.

Blood on the carpet. Never coming off

And never failing to remind you of what you did and didn't

do wrong.

You figured you'd make boredom into something

Less important but the meaning of any philosophy

Is dependant on the day and the weight of the past it carries--

**** it

Bassline stranded on the boderline, that is to say

Stuck and unfixable. That's part of growing, right?

Dealing with it and moving on, forming a character

From a tortuous pantomine; doing the impossible in

Ameliorating light strictly with the tools given to you

by the dark room you were raised in. Rise or sink.

It was out of your hands, your actions moving forward

Is all that has to matter now.

Just hold on until tomorrow.

Cresol dusk imbued to rustic hypnosis,
The civic stroll outside,zombified with
What must be glorious ataxia.

The masquerade hosted by dust,
An implicit surrender to the elements,
Basked in nocturnia-- lo,

The elements ceased having meaning
When I learnt I could not hold control
  over them.

See the sky ramp and shiver,shuffling stars
In a showcase to those loving,an augury to those
Self-appointed sinners--

And see me,disconnected and without a care,
I surrender my breath as limboid tangents
And the elements do not rebut.

I am homed in becoming alone,
I am possessed in converse and I am lost
  without the choice to be otherwise.

I watch the gimcrack mannerisms loop effably,
Understanding the road to omniscience is tipped
In ego alone--

One must not surrender,rather accept
And work a way round the system.
The cosmic map is eidetic,it's lanuage
  dares not pander to speech,
  it's sleep is one day needed
  and complimentary to our own--

I listen to the madrigal and no longer seek to compose it,
I choose to believe that nothing is chosen.

plauge-ridden robbers
cut through the lonesome night and
its shallow starshine

If she's easy  just like

     How she was easy

     Then what does that make you?

They misdiagnose your problems then feed you pills anyway,
Drag their way into the problems that they helped to create.

I don’t think I’ve ever loved anybody like you loved me,
I truly deserved all the hurt I ever got;
Thanks alot.

Now I react how you reacted and do my part in undoing whatever I rebuilt,
I’ve gotten used to the shame over who I am but I could do without the guilt.

Being special isn't worth ****
   Unless you've got the work ethic
                                                         To­ go along with it.

Daydreaming witty memories that sailed smooth
While real time Lord Quas the unseen plays, beaming
Me back in time, Marty McFly draining the east of oil
As his engine gave out; such a silly scene your ****** features in the neon paint,

A picture of chaos, toned dance (canvas for the shadows to ballet upon)

That morphs back, eyes hovering kissing nose goodbye
and whole expressions metamorphing to resemble a trillion milliseconds bygone--
Hauntings of you so long ago hook at
Your brow like spiderlegs thru sac--
So many days where I could happily live forever, so many days
Spent
by
Your side, buttertea on the slow days wasting time on dominoes.
I'm taking care of business, as they say; green is bussiness
The faces on the pennies we skipped into the wishing fountain on our first date
Probably wouldn't recognise us.

The world seemed much more coherent a few years ago and I'm running
Out of options but I'm standing my ground because its fight or starve.

But how we stick and strive because in your face I see a mystical mirror
That reflects me truer than any glass could.

I kiss your skin. I seal the deal and think to ask you to marry me

But it's too late
at
Night. My hair isnt neat enough and I'm not familiar with this part of town. And how very out of place I would look

Neath this ***** neon that turrets
This precious moment we waste contempt




in silence.

therupetic monologue
                                  that taunts as its teaches
singing it's song at tooth's breadth
                                     To my sordid chest.

in the mirror my ****** features distant
        And zoning,
                              Try to love myself and a las,
I love you like chaos loves the silence.

Concrete morning swings along the window pane
   and ushers in a dreary reminder: not to get lost if

You're iffy on your
                                way back home.

Gallantry badge stitched to rotting cloth
as the skin sinks and the bones fade
and the love made is left to reek the bed
where sexless wife and lonely daughter
   Lay their head's arrest.

In due time they both tan, sag and crackle
Under weight of the sun.

That dizzy cyclops that roped forth
homecoming boats and ships stands
five years from being defunct; rusted
to the hue of a coppice
and hardly the attraction it once was

But oh well— sighs the sailor, too old and bankrupt to care
for approaching poverty— the money has been made and my life spent

For others (his Sister, his Niece, his Brother)
They lack the ability to sigh;
the closest they get is the occasional stormy wind
that cracks the surface, blows through their teeth
resembling a crooked lullaby,
Revolves the bullet lodged in their skull;
O occasional stormy rain that beshrews the water
clogging their lungs and, in due time, The leaking muck
that’ll pluck and sharply snap inward the casketwood--
directly against the bullet gathhering mold in their heart--

Their souls have been spent.
One less soldier wouldn't have changed a thing
(The result was a certainty propagated
   as a contingency)
And if G-d bare'd witness his eyes no longer sting,
  His grievances had and his puppets dead
Following a suffering in his name.

If Thy Kingdom holds true
They bare witness now to the lighthouse
In it's chipping hue, it's trivial dock and visitor
Silhouettes—

All held in place and burning; They disfigure
Under weight of the sun.

sun fades to dawn;
sky blushed,cerise to maude
I'd love to live a day
in your mind, I'd stay
              starstruck in the mirror

but there is nothing here to reflect,
  only our eyes to record. Your teeth dissect
apple slices and shape a smile.
I love your eyes, I love how they forecast the sky

   wavering,blossoming in slow motion
and carving a sleekit masterpiece that parodies the ocean.

I could stay like this forever, imbued in
     beautiful silence, your beautiful presence;
I've no hesitance to let the time float by
   around us, by your side I feel safer than ever.

I misplaced a tear drop
                                   into a jar full of collected rain.
  
Cloudy thoughts sway me forward to face the day
   ahead

In the water
Our spinning coins join to
reflect a halo round the moon,

Beautifully glowing in place before the inevitable fall.