lucid disorient, waking at dusk—
you can leave if you must,
but don't rush it.
my polished exterior, hiding a husk,
looks like silk to the touch,
so don't touch it.

lazing away
through both halves of the day,
I'd've lain in your aura
accordant.
but off you must go
so I won't let you know
that each moment,
your absence is torment.

consider O
woman this
my body.
for it has

lain
with empty arms
upon the giddy hills
to dream of you,

approve these
firm unsated
eyes
which have beheld

night’s speechless carnival
the painting
of the dark
with meteors

streaming from playful
immortal hands
the bursting
of the wafted stars

(in time to come you shall
remember of this night amazing
ecstasies     slowly,
in the glutted

heart fleet
flowerterrible
memories
shall

rise,slowly
return upon the
                  red elected lips

scaleless visions)

a connotation of infinity
sharpens the temporal splendor of this night

when souls which have forgot frivolity
in lowliness,noting the fatal flight
of worlds whereto this earth’s a hurled dream

down eager avenues of lifelessness

consider for how much themselves shall gleam,
in the poised radiance of perpetualness.
When what’s in velvet beyond doomed thought

is like a woman amorous to be known;
and man,whose here is alway worse than naught,
feels the tremendous yonder for his own—

on such a night the sea through her blind miles

of crumbling silence seriously smiles

You: a fire hazard,
and I am the glowing-red exit

whose handle you hold
just to be sure
nothing burns
on the other side.

But nothing can burn me.
What's burning is you,

on the outside
of the exit door.