I saw her pluck a strand
of golden light out from the air
and tie it to her wrist
like a chain so fine and fair.
She danced then like a child
caring not if I might stare.
I saw her and nothing can compare.

In my dreams
you run to me wildy, laughing
amid sunflowers tall as the sky.

In my dreams
we talk for hours letting the night
crawl past the window.

In my dreams
we are never uncertain and
all we have been is lovers.

In my dreams
your love didn't die.

They want us with our heads down,
hands tied, eyes closed.
They want us right where we are now,
their boots pressed to our throats.

Give until it starts to hurt.
Give until you like it.
Give until your coffin's built
and you gladly crawl inside it.

Lavender candles and dopesmoke evenings.
Quiet enough to enjoy,
not so quiet as to shatter my high.
I light another joint and begin to read your poems.
I still don't understand, really,
but I never expect to.
When I'm done I fall into the mirror.
It breaks, cuts my finger.
My own blood runs.
This I can relate to.