Says the soldier to his love,
When he holds her handful of fantasy
That itself recalls holy wine and bread,
The blood seeps into his own hands is all.

Says the soldier to his love when he crawls
To impotence of mud and stone sediments
That augur not a fleshen but a fossil birth,
Like the bone of the once-masticating jaw.

Said the soldier to his love, when he fell face first
Into the nuptials of lily, delphinium, and dark earth,
I only wish to be the petals for your wedding, my love...

shadows are
happy when

we dance
they are

no longer
foreboding

specters of
what follows us

but dreams of
what we can be

when we let
ourselves dance

The grey morning sky-
In my dulcet dreams we claim it as ours,
When I wake with you breathing softly
Next to me, to the song
Of the rain and the ghost of your three
Sweetest whispered words
still hanging in the air,
to the curve of your naked silhouette
Half-covered by a soft white sheet,
So ******* lovely and pure and perfect-
I want to watch you stretch, languidly,
towards my kisses and my embrace-  
you are everything I ever need or want
in the light of our new day, my love.

he's lived ten thousand lives
he's died ten thousand deaths

he's helped uncounted beings
and he's hurt everyone

he's summited every peak
and died in every valley

he's been both emperor and thief
both savior and tyrant

he has laughed and he has cried
he lives and then he dies

still faithfully he trods
the path that never ends

the path seems like a circle
but the circle is a spiral

or so he tells himself