How many more ******* matches
    'til drowning in waste matter

A spirited moon
   'neath furtive glances,
      anguished of despair
looked upon hushed
  entangled constellations
      and heeded a warning,
for he knew well of lavishing
    recherché intricacies,
mattered naught how exquisite
  nothing lasting could come
    of liaisons's effusive grandeur,
       'tween clandestine stargazers

Secrets drowning in blood
         steeped depictions,
cunningly smothered
  of familial tied executions,
heredity oft an unkind
     sacramental entanglement,
deeply rooted in
   disparaging divisions,
disintegrated 'neath ashes
      of unresolved deliverance

The  poesy of chef's soup du jour,
   peppered in a skillfully
            pauperized simmer
       or sublimely enriched dish of
          ultimate truffle butter grandeur,
   tastefully rendered in the
        aromatic broken bread of
           delectable poetry's bouquet

Devoured by the intensity,
  words that quench the soul
an enchanting intoxication - -
    like a spirited ******
      whetting a voracious thirst,  
plunging in for another swallow
   of adoration's satiated ******

Still hunger for your skin,
  thirsting the lips that
   once melded into mine
one last blissful night together
  flowing of wine and passion,
never suspecting you were
   letting me down easy,
our hearts were in sync -
      or so I was led to believe
   veiled in ecstasy,
    a cruelty worse than death
      in the least, dying has a final chapter

Baggage within
      trappings of illusions,
love packed away
  in neat little compartments
gathering cobwebs at
     makeshift improvisations,
dusting intermittently
      if by chance a light
           should shine,
never wholly untangling
    the snare
mid a labyrinth of
      transparent entrapment,  
as violin strings continue
      to unlatch the same old key

Herein, laying dormant,
    veils of reposed
      secrecy 'neath
       foamy seascapes'
              frenetic passages,
languishing below
   sunken treasures'
     false facades of
        reticently rolling
            shrouded bluffs,
 shaded of darkly impetuous
        hued blood in
          unceremoniously
             bound convolutions,
a million ancient
     undisclosed shadows hidden,
     notwithstanding combative
        rumblings of death's
         unwelcome sycophancy,
depths of centuries'
         old unparalleled stories,
 whence hush-hush
       undulatory influx
          of defiant upsurges
            and turbulence reside,
     that of which only the
          winds of indiscretion,
                 clandestine spirits
                      & gods could surmise


*...as  privileged moons watch over amaranthine skeletons

They met on rainy days
  when the air was thick,
laden with the
   scent of old musky
     scrapbook memoirs
           & salt tears' reminisces

Obscurity's trenchant
     sorrows blotting
        tissue paper cuts,
tears aptly smeared
    in hidden fears of
        first dashed allusions,
darkly flippant metaphors
       sans passionate accolades
          left to gingerly decay,
    grandiloquently speaking,
       'Happily Ever After' is
           hardly a verbose nuance
             throughout a quinine
                         poet's collection