Here in the serenity
The Chorus of stars
Intertwined in tranquility
Our earth
Alone in perfect harmony
Eternally ensnared in the sway
Triumphantly resound in him
Misery and Famine
Mi Fa Mi
Fa Mi

Enshrined in the veil of twilight
Hues ribbon across space
Before the dawn
I taste and see the sounds
And the singularity within
Dances Entranced falling into sway
Triumph and resound the hymn
Famine
Misery
Mi Fa Mi
Fa Mi

Continue to lie to him
And to lie with me
For it is love not lust which is so bittersweet
By and by come
You who would allow
My poison to condemn everything you shall ever love
Then you and I can prostrate upon
The altar you hold so dear and that I know so well

At least for a moment
I will then trudge in to the horizon scorned by the sun
Leaving you in solidarity

So like the others I can be catalogued—
Stocked upon your shelf a token
Your conquered warrior king
Victim to your feral grin and unbound locks
Now fodder for your written emotions

For every night you close your eyes
You will remember the night where
Our chests heaved in synchronicity
And your cries were silenced
By the beating of your heart

There I will become the best piece of literature you will ever write
And you will become my most beloved sin

My dear friend who loved nature dearly
He toasted to the waning and waxing of the moon
And to the rising and setting sun
Alas my dear friend loved nature too much
As he died toasting the tide
Embracing a bed of sand

I stood tall and proud
As oaks and pine
Planted by the huntress
As she rifled the woods
In search of game

Yet it was the axes of her children
That laid me next to my brethren
As we were stacked for their houses
Two by two by two

He wished her ill the sweet Frenchman
As he descended the stair in fury
Leaving the rose embroidery of the carpet to
Extend its thorny clutch to ravage
The ruching of her dress

Later how it would unravel strand by strand along with her to the floor
The frailest of ladies that the Frenchman had adored

“How dare you refute me that which is not yours?”
He implored in anger as he locked her two front doors

Oh yes
I have known loves many in number and place
I could become complacent and dote on your grace
Or even still the beauty of your flesh

Alas your lips are no more awe striking
As the moss on stilled boulders
Unremarkable like soma drenched kisses
On some listless evening long ago

No you are all unremarkably the same
You pray for the kind lyrics of song
But dear loves your beauty will wither
Will you wail when the lyrics are gone?

So I will not sing of your kisses
Like soft winter sun caressing my sinuous skin
For dear love your beauty has weathered
Yet I still know loves many in number and place

I in my sophomoric splendor saw you as singular
Now as I ponder truly you are no more than
The caress of linoleum
The sunburn from sky light on my back
Or the grains of age on a headboard

Yes I have known love
Numerous yet they are one
“Sing a song for me my dove”
I suppose for you I shall rise like the Son

Dark dwelling deep in it's own despair marred meaninglessly in its essence
Cold coarse fleshed tiles spanning upwards into struts of splintered weathered wood
Smelling of stale sap and oak seeping into sullen sweat-stained sheets concealing constellations Within You
And I—
Intertwined within
Amongst the stars
Our words lost somewhere between the rhythm of our heart
The synapses of our mind
And the nature of our nerves
To touch