To be seen —
not as an object of desire,  
but as another human being.

To be seen—
for what she is made of,
for what strengths she carries within
and
not for what she covers her body with.

To be admired
not for her beautiful body
but for the beauty within.

Her voice to be heard
and not her screams.

To have dignity —
in life and in death.

To have self-respect.


Is it too much to ask for?

I crave you...
like a dry lakebed, thirsts
to be quenched
with a deluge, of rainwater.
I long, to hear your laughter, sing,
through my screen
like droplets of rain,
on a tin rooftop.
I pray, to feel the ripples, of you
run up and down,
the contours of my body,
like crashing waves,
as we rock, and writhe, in shared ecstasy.

I think, of you:
my darling...

dearest you,

and picture your face,
glowing, like a halogen lamp,
beneath mine...eclipsing the sunlight
as your hands, move,
like currents, while you swim with me.

Your eyes, are reflecting mirrors
bright pools, that I can see myself drowning in,
and liking it, as I struggle to breathe,
and asphyxiate
as you circle, around me.

I wish you could touch my smile,
and feel it transfer,
to your own face.
I wish you would pull me tighter against you,
and wear me, around,
like your favorite sweater.

I wish I could just hold you,
until the thunder stops,
until the lightning, in your head,
ceases, flashing
its alarum blue...

until we are pulled out of orbit, together
and splashed, like paint
across the blankest,
brightest,
canvas

of stars.

Lead me to the lunar waterfall.
Chased in your crystalline dreams.
Bending beams of light colour the scene.
Sparkly, still, and serene.
You have what you hold,
And you hold what you hunger for.
And you got what you grasped.
And you want what you wield.
And you have me.
By the hand,
Jumping joyfully into
Mare Tranquillitas below,
Crying out Geronimo,
Bombs away,
Blasting regret,
Lost love,
Trenches, traps, and ticking time bombs,
Quarantine quarters,
And toxic teenage terrains.
Dispersing into droplets,
As our flesh hits the foam,
Diving down,
Delving deep into memory.
Looking up to the surface,
Light lances through,
Tears twining with the tide—
You can’t see me cry.
Skeletons of secret sins,
Dancing, drying by the fires
Started with your cold heart’s last gleaming.
Like the Fourth with Fireworks,
Blazing bursts in the ******* sky,
Same shade as your iris,
Glowing galaxies in circles around a black hole,
Dilated, dark,
Growing, gravitating by the minute.
Minuet in G,
In the newborn garden of Eve,
Setting sun, seen from Hadley Rill,
Watching wonders from the hills,
Ocean of storms,
Swirling, sighing, singing.
The centre of your soul,
Aligns with mine.
Two event horizons,
Colliding,
Black holes, binding,
Into the big bang,
Giving life, light, love
Again
To our weary, wandering hands.
We pick up the pen, the power,
Mightier than the howling hordes
Against us
When they find out
What we did
On the backside of the bold, bright Luna.
I have you in my head.
Bloodrushed,
Pulsing, pounding under my skin,
Veins vibrant, alight from within.
Spark me,
Smoke me,
Like a **** of twilight’s last hope.
Luke, you are the Last one.
I need social shields,
To cope with the look on their faces
When they see me
At the party
You throw in my honour.
I regained,
In the war for your word,
Returned to glory,
For the story.
For the girl,
For bounty,
For *****,
And being bold,
Standing up for the good,
To our own selves
We can be true.
Lovers, in luminous, lawless times.
Nuclear nightmares aimed over waves.
We have our lunar lunch,
Floating in the featherlight fog of low gravity,
Double-jointed dream suits,
Spacetime spiraling,
Redux and redo,
Tea for two,
Waltzing on the moon.

If you only knew
how the thought of you
makes the blood buzz in my veins
like alcohol, the liquid courage I need
to speak your name
and yet
this empty room only echoes it back to me.

"She left the city as a girl
And returned a woman
In the same shoes
On the same night.
A face in the darkness;
The reaper glimpsed
At journey's end.
He straddles the bridge
Between tonight and tomorrow--
He's a revolver with
One bullet missing
From the chamber;
He's the Wheel of Fortune
With its terms unwritten;
He's an unsigned DNR notice.
He's the end of the line."

...Now, here, I stand,
miles ahead,
on disconnecting tracks,
a once-raging fire,
slowly fading,
to a silver smoke...

Wondering,
...where did you go?

Have your own wolfish eyes,
peered into glassy irises
that even, in the silences,

reminded you,
of mine?

What existed, in me
that you let me, survive?

Mister, oh, please, let,
me in on your secret...
and tell me, now, do you regret ...

how you kept me... alive...?