There is a soft meadow golden
where there now stands oblivion
wild mustangs comb the hard
dry grasses after a long arid winter.


In the distance, wood smoke
from a silent fire that crackles
'neath a hungry touch.


An aubade's warm hand reaches
from the silky horizon to touch love
gently upon her shoulders and roam
the hills, and dusky valleys of the
paradisiac dawn, as it stretches each stone.


...and soothed; by palpebral stream;
each bend a lover's nape
endlessly explored by endless wait
to greet the welcome rise again.

I've never proclaimed be an Angel
wearing the weighted wings
of the innocent sacrifice.

I've never claimed to be Diablo,
though pitch forks and red
are certainly my best colors.

I don't remember exclaiming truths
or swallowing serums, or vows of full
disclosure, especially the ones
I don't want to hear.

I proclaim love with a beggars sign
in the middle of the April desert
but someone chopped it down.

now, I proclaim noise,
turbulent, breathless
surrender to the voice
of the quiet night.

I remember promises of April.

I would happily suffer
   because of how much I love you
I will put myself through misery
    just so you feel no pain
I would walk on flames
     and put them out
         so you can walk through
I will drive myself insane
     so you can have no part of the blame
I just wanna believe
        that you love me
               that much too