Above the earth and below the sun,
Exhaled from volcanoes long ago.

Stately as the ships of the Spanish Armada,
Sailing the horizon graceful and slow.

Bearer of ambrosia that innervates the earth,
Harvester of water and what the winds blow.

Ageless and formless, taking every shape
Suggestive to reason of what we do not know.

If frozen clouds of cancer wind
floated through this cavern grey,

and found us, waiting for each other
drunken on a pensive day-
  I would take them into me
'cause, love- there is no other way.

he was two opposing elements,
the coldest warmth i’ve ever felt.
he was night mixed with light,
flight mixed with fight.
his shoulders full of freckles
were fields of tiny fires,
his hair a molten eruption
spilling down my hands.
he set off bombs inside me,
rendered my forest
a mound of smoky soot,
reached into me
to uproot the undergrowth.

he was loud.
i was listening.
he was bright.
i was willing.

i would have followed him
into the mouths of volcanoes,
built temples for him,
a hearth to rest his head in,
a small wallspace to flicker in,
let him **** up my oxygen.
I wanted to dig into him like a jack o’ lantern,
reach into his pulpy insides
and scoop out sadness with the seeds,
carve a smile into his flesh,
light a candle in his breast,
so he could shine,
but he was too cold.

i kept striking those matches
til my fingers burnt,
and every time the flame
touched his delicate wick,
we’d both go out.

The sun will not remember you,
After all the days it has warmed your back.
The stars will not remember me,
Though their light doth pierce the night, and guide me through the black.

The fields will not remember the brothers,
Lost in each other’s war.
The soldier’s cry will echo and die,
Wondering what it was for.

But we will soon forget it too,
All the suffering we did create.
The oblivious world will carry on,
And ease us of our hate.

The birds will continue to sing,
After Silence has stolen your song.
The road knows no end,
So I’ll keep traveling on.

I think,
as i look upon the stars.
So small,
Yet we travel so far.

We walk so much;
But we search more.
Years go by,
but we search like before.

Like day and night,
people pass me by;
and i feel so small,
when i look up at the sky.

I see one,
or two thousand stars.
But only, am i only
looking up for (my) mars.

Where are you mars?
I've been promised (you) so much
"keep on looking"
"keep your head up" and such.

But where does the search,
come to its end?
When will you become,
more than my friend?