Die into me,

Every kiss is a prayer
As I whisper a prophesy
         To your body.

          The night will keep us
As we constellate our passion.

I die into you,

      I await you on the other side,
There open my soul
      And read the inscription:

   He died a thousand times,
Reborn inside her,
    The Sacrificial Lover.

I fell from the mountain peak, I climbed alone,
in to the blue depth of her lonely heart, frothing hot.

She feigned surprise,"Do not know how this happened"
I remembered seeing her creeping in to my thoughts before.

Was it a conspiracy we both hatched together,a subconscious plot!

Did I slip and fall in to her expectant heart,waiting warmly for me?
The way to a maiden's heart and the secret of a man's craftiness
are unknown; we decide our love, is to be accepted, with an open heart
Are we spooked, trapped inside the logic of a Salvador Dali painting?

health in a jar
or words
maybe wine
lots of wounds
lots of remedys
nothing works
for everything
but laughter and time
usually help
to some extent.

I can't wait
'till I'm all free of you

I wring my hands
since you said we're through

I chew my nails
I don't know what to do

I'm down and out
feeling ******* blue

are the vowels and consonants
forming meanings  and precedents
or but moments remembered tender
of some long lost love
or a stronger sentiment more
profound, perhaps a lesson for
others to make a judgement
of our morals the existential bottom
of it or the granite forming some mountain
ranging vast differences of climates
of language and man made boundaries
gathered into molecules the skin of water
filling the land and seas
with individuals making
one day a whole
or a law or prophecy at least

I am a borrower
collecting things that shine
all stashed in cracks and hidey-holes
where the rafters meet the roof
in the basement floorboards
lift one and you'll see
the treasures I've collected
two gorgeous glassy eyes
seven gilded antique buttons
a bouquet of sweetly fragrant lilies
a gleaming jar of pixie dust
three noble barristers
an Irishman netting butterfly dreams
a sorceress of the endless prairie
windmills like soldiers all in a line
the saddest porcelain doll
a small brown bear
trains screaming by on underground rails
a sprinkling of desert blooms
six jack-in-the-boxes so I'm always surprised
the hairless stuffed dog that bit me as a child
a Rickenbacker bass softly riffing the blues
a farmer's Ovation to accompany my woes
seashells that sing the ocean breeze
a merman from the Northern seas
tucked away in every space
packed within each sweet hollow
these simple pleasures I have borrowed

After what seemed  eons
he heard her saying this,
        gently patting his chest
        and wistfully looking
        at his withered rose petal lips
                      "You need to slow down,
                        be incisive, gaze, just not
                              with two physical eyes
                                master your senses, all five
                        if you want to see clearly
                      what truly transpires
                beyond mere words and actions"
         those frenzied moments
of love, despair whatever, intense
he somehow felt part of his, cherished,
                 But did they deliver?
             never did he regret a GURU's absence
                 still hoped in a deeper layer of psyche
                           "He would certainly come..won't
                              decide against showing up"
                      Still he was waiting
                           (looking at the directions wrong)
                             when she was with him,
                                     his lover,finder of path too, for a long while.
                              None had ever seized him like this
                                   and emphatically said such a thing
                                                   Now he could see
                                                     more clearly with focus
                                            as if the blazing sun appears
                                            when the clouds are driven by the winds.
             He heard the words of wisdom
             a woman like her can better discern
                because his light and darkness reflect
                on her screen of love, better,
                                essence-mind- bliss
                              "Sat-chit- Ananda"
                              where cosmic waves
                              make their presence
               At that instance he decides
                 to let go pretenses of every kind
                       he felt expansion of consciousness
                          a feeling words would never learn to express,
                         with stars in attendance he slept
                      cleansed himself in the waters of milky way
              frenetic drum beat of heart
              vanished as if he is no more
body bound, free to fly anywhere.
         wasn't she just predicting that
         the slow dance holding the hand
         that masterfully guides,
           it  begins
                            from this moment.

With a
thin sheet
of skin we cover
each limb,
bury
the heart
beneath flesh
& hope for
the best,
but the cracks
still come, air finding
its way in via
eardrums,
lungs, 
then finally
a soul & you know
when you see
them, more
paper
than
people, you
look in their eyes
& don't see hopes
& dreams but
city streets,
industrial
skylines,
no sign of sun
coming over the
horizon.