Dead of night, warm breeze
Mother Nature's sweet reprieve
Time drips like honey

Centered and exposed,
Vulnerable offering.
Strength in surrender.

Lost in the crimson smear
of your bruised lips,
wading in your milky folds
as time crawls on all fours,
I open all my eyes
and feel the you
in me.

Everything is One

My body,
blood and breath
become yours
as skins blend.

My eyes drink from
your lips and
my lips eat from
your skin and
my skin feeds from
your soul and
my soul is
shrouded in thick shadows,
bound in leathery lusts,
shackled with a will of steel
forged from the
transcending of suffering.

We are One

Each breath and subtle movement
brings me closer
to our core
as infinity
opens inside of us.

We are Forever

Lost in the grey garden of
my dying memories,
drowning in the deep nothing
as I crawl on hands and knees,
I open my throat and purge
the you from me.

It's these small hours; these slow and tired ones,
thick,
heavy with memories,
that can weigh a man down.

I miss you

Time creeps by.

This moment,
this Now,
I can taste your smells.
Rose oil,
amber,
coffee and fresh sheets.

Skin

It's these small hours,
these quiet hours.

Another cold night alone
with nothing but the ringing in my ears
and the traffic on the hill
as I grind into sleep.

You are missing from me

I need your smells to welcome me home.
I want your warmth left on the couch cushion.
I have to see girl stuff infiltrate my cabinets.

Please

Bring me yoga pants left on the chair
and random hair ties in weird places
and long hairs on the pillow
and clean dishes
and **** that I would never think of cooking
and stretch marks
and skin products
and grace
and beauty
and soft lips
and smooth curves
and wet folds
and a soft touch
and mood swings
and chub rolls
and dresses, lots of dresses.

Give me your shadows weight
and your insecurities
and fears
and scars
and let me carry
your nothing.

I will help you heal

This cold night,
this tortuous loneliness,
this moment,
Now,

I need you here

Be my sugar.

...
Your name,
a stab wound in the neck.
Memories of you,
moldy coffee grounds
and soggy biscuits;
your taste, spoiled milk.

Black, oily tendrils spill from my dying lips each time I say your name in my head.

I do not say it out loud

You are she now, I must
remember.

She...her.

She was the only one
I would have
completely submitted
to, had she only asked.

Her juices, sublime.

She ruined me
for the rest of you.
Cold and dark, her love
is the shadow in my eyes.
These bloodstained years,
ashes, weightless.

I cannot love anyone now.
I gave what little I had to her,
and she killed it.

I let her

This purging of her,
will it ever end?
So many dead memories
taking up precious space.
So many lies, so many lies.
A soiled sanctuary,
dripping in poison.

My dearest and darkest love,
my only.

They were all for you,
these poems. These futile
attempts to reconcile my reality
with my guts. Even the ones that weren't for
you carried your shadow.

Her, not you.
I must remember
This one broke me
because she didn't know
how to wield
the immense power
I gave her.
She was careless.

This has to stop.
Soon.

I want to hold someone
else and not think of...her.

You

I want to make everything right.

No

I want revenge.
I want her to suffer.

These dark reflections
from my nothing
inside
are innocuous.

Pale skin, bleach and rotten milk.
Lies and lies and lies.

Her grey garden is barren
but I still have sight.
She was supposed to
pluck my eyes.
Communion, this eating of
my flesh and
drinking of my
blood
has left me
bereft of anything
worth wanting.

*I crawl through stone

The black tide of Nothing swells
deep and cold, inside.

Us

This tenuous filament we grasp and flail for,
this meager connection,
it is a smokey spiderweb,
an eyelash falling.

Gone

I am not the same person I was
when I began this sentence;
you have never existed
anywhere but in my blood.

Mine

The nothing of us,
this chasm, abysmal
and familiar.

My dearest, my darkest.

*My only