I was thinking about my future 
and what I want to do
but I found I have no interests 
strong enough to hold on to.

Quietly whispered,
The words spoken without envy;

The divine thirst is for you,
In a myriad of liquids yours
Is the only quenching,
There is nothing as good to the soul
As kissing the nape of your neck
When I come home,
I hold your hands beside you
And gather them in a harvesting,
The touch dominant of my existence.

I will be thinking:
This pleasure is all mine,
A promise holy like time,
You are my Prophesy
Spoken with every minute.

i guess i can do
a blue sky.
but i like mine

grey and
splayed out,
sleepily burnished -
yuh know,
that something that
brings out

monochrome feral tones,

with a few
exposed
crevices
every now and then

to polish
me off
good.

Life is a passion,
An expression of what we are,
What we humans are,
We live,
We laugh,
We love,
We cry,
We fly,
We lie,
We hear,
We see,
We drive,
We ride,
We glide,
Etc...
But the final thing we humans are afraid of but are the best at,
We die,
You die,
I die,
The fact is inevitable.

you let me in at 3am that night
i latched onto your mind
and you tried to smooth my edges
maybe we like to pretend it isn't real
nothing is real in the darkness
we fall asleep
and wake up in the morning
with only a terrifying memory
i wonder if you regret it
but i look forward to midnight
it's the time you're alive
i'm not afraid
until i remember it won't be the same when we wake up
this is the secret we keep
i want to tell everyone about you
but you tell me
"we only exist after midnight"