We made love on the moon,
but we came too soon;
so I took your hand,
and went again.

The night did not end,
and there was no protest
from those watchful stars
off in the backdrop.

You told me your sign,
and I told you mine.
You lent me your mind
so that we could entwine.

Our veins did connect
as did our breaths;
above their concepts,
we shrugged it off.

The light fantastic,
I hoped you’d let it.
The night elastic,
I hoped you’d keep it.

And you did.
I forgot to think
about tomorrow’s color,
and focused on you instead.

You were my favorite shade,
the only one I could see.
Blinded from the rest;
cursed not, but blessed.

Galactic ruins kept us safe
for those that ruin,
hidden under sheets
on our perpetual moon.

We made a cocoon
and never left it.
We sprouted lips
and refused to evolve.

(but time still flew)

**** up

                                        Pathetic



*******,­
      
                 all
                              
                     *******


Reasons naught
pointless
counterpoints


**** up


Cosmic             *******

every
           last

detail

every
           last

derail

until the tracks
can

                       no longer


be wielded
back                                                
                          
                                     ­                        together

to

                 get

                                    her


Lost

like my mind
                  no longer mine
                                        so far behind


**** up


Flesh inflamed
eyes insane
slippery      
    
                                    dame


fallen

        ­                     from my        grasp


fire’s less oblivious


too much sweat, I bet


of a **** up


sweating out

                      the eyes

as I hear
                  
                        finalized
                                    cries


mine
        
                                       no more

nothing

                                       anymore

lone shadow

                                       forevermore

breathe

                                       nevermore




                                                  ­                 ******
                                                          ­             up

listen to the curtains in their dust;
could pull the strings anytime
and reveal that predictable sun,
but I’d rather bathe in darkness,
melting into your rare warmth,
in the silence of our knowledge
and the comfort of our skin,
with the finishing touches on our lips,
welcomed shadows deliver us to bliss.

Insects welcoming themselves
in and around her eyes,
rushing the universal act
known as decomposition,
but they will just have to wait,
for she is not yet ready
to experience the encore
of cruelty.

A veil to secure
her condemned health;
tho’ there is no use
when she sees
little strings of blood
in her *****.

Maggots drilling deep
into her wretched gut,
a pool of forsaken oil
pouring out between
ghost white fingers,
and staining feet
with its cancer.

Outcasted by those
still blessed by ignorance,
she continues to stumble
under these street lights,
forming puddles
in her death gaze.

Limbs stretched, vision ablaze;
home in the dust like a statue
idolized in the center of town
where all of the villagers
have turned to ash
on my behalf.

Leaving me to bathe
in the leftover turmoil
of yesteryear’s quarrel,
refusing to shut my eyes
and allowing their genocide
to penetrate any sanity
craven enough to flee.

Warrior scream in a world
where no one is around to hear,
climaxing until lungs explode,
discharging a cancerous mist
of the forlorn’s plague.

Pleading to the sun,
that ******* sun,
pleading to these spirits
******* with my head,
the ones surrounding me
like a city without tongues,
I can still hear their despair.

Pleading to God,
if He isn’t lost
like the rest;

pleading to whoever
still cares enough
to listen:

*Take me.

They were running out of water,
while we still possessed plenty,
stored in bottles, jugs, cups, toilets,
stored in the gutters and backyards;
a supply large enough to quench
billions of parched throats.

But before their claws could scratch,
we defeated them through sacrifice,
through patriotic self-destruction.

Now our supply is just as low,
desiccated by mushroom sighs;
wasted by hereditary wastelanders
cashing in on an apropos wasteland.

Like history predicted,
we destroyed it all.