When others get jealous of me
Their jealous because their the same as all the others,
Because they seeith I'm different from them
And they don't like difference,

As whilst they get jealous,
I just walketh away....

Jealousy
Is one of the seven deadly sins....

I make art
With the thousand mysteries
Of my deepest feelings

I perform art
With the unconciousness
In the emptiness

Art from heart,
The purest urge
To free your soul
From every dip
Of the harassing reality

Art is what?
The purest need
To express the deep
Everlasting eternity.

Let's go back*
Those drawn out mornings of soft light and even softer touches
Sparkling dust motes floating mid-air
A vision of perfection twisted in love drenched sheets
I could stay in bed all day
Just listening to you breathe

What does it mean to be beautiful,
  To be alone in the most beautiful way
  To sink into the solitude with such grace
  A candle flame flickers that way
  Speechless a burning orange fire
Restless to become one with the darkness around.
Clothes wet and washed down the rocks
Lost somewhere in the running black water
What does it mean to be beauty itself,
  To be naked like the night
  Lost and meditating in desire
  Craving quietly for his holy touch
Tell me what it means
to be beauty itself,
  to be naked like the night
  and still get him to stare
  at only the moon that you hold in your eyes.

He is a delicateness
a tender beautiful mess
He is the softness of
the papers of an old book
He is that forgotten wetness
of shy kissed lips
He is that sudden leap in her heart
when she smells rain
He is all those tiny things
unseen and untouched
Believe me he is
all that I have touched and cherished.

He is the emptiness
of a broken summer's moon.
Believe me he is.