Let me tell you a story
of a young woman
winsome and wise

Once a small flower
bloomed into something
more beautiful than a whole garden

Someone who gives joy
in a world with so much
misery

A hidden diamond
exquisite and rare
treated more precious than jewelry

Once a blank paper
tainted with love
by her one and only

A daughter and a sister,
a friend and a lover,
and will soon be a mother

This is the story
of a young woman
winsome and wise,
special and loved.

how nice it must be
to its silk as soot and sod
to sleep so with me

Cry myself to sleep
You aren't here anymore
Loneliness sinks
And strikes me right to the core

Our love was forbidden
And the world kept us apart
But I’ll forever keep your secrets
On every page of my heart

Hate that you came home too late
And yes I waited too long
So now I stare at  old text
And replay your voice like a song

Baby won't stay
Body not a home
Doc looks for heartbeat
But baby's long gone

within then depths of my losses
lives a flicker of fleeting fate
where a fire burns
and it spells out your name
when i squint though the haze
i see you dance in the flames
and i think how my cold hands
could use you these days

i reach out to find
the warmth in your blaze
but suddenly it shrinks
and the flames start to fade
still i keep trying
using all of my strength
but the Light
and You
are completely erased

now darkness is growing
at astounding new rates
and i am left alone
filled with unfulfilling fate
so i build myself up
using mantras of praise
for abundance of Love
in me that always stays
no matter who’s near
or who fades far away

i open my eyes up
to peek at the bleak
darkness around me
it’s all my eyes see
  ”but wait”
  —calls out a Light within me
as i feel my heart beat
to the magic in me
it shines with a force
that the sun hasn’t seen
it dances to rhythms
my soul sings on key

soon my cold hands
are warmed by the heat
which flows from the flames
that first flickered in me
the ones i had tamed
just for spelling your name

but i am the warmth
i am all of the flames
what burns inside me
will forever remain

as does the truth
one that i misconstrued
about that great glow
i thought started in you
but you just reflected
the Light that i bloomed
i am the Sun
you just acted my moon

for no thing i see
exists outside of me
the fire is burning
always at my seams
glowing to guide me
and help me to see
alone on the paths
that lead me
back to me

One must be brave to live through  
a day. What remains
is nothing but the pleasure of longing—very precious.

Longing
purifies as does flying, strengthens as does an effort,  
it fashions the soul
as work
fashions the belly.

It is like an athlete, like a runner  
who will never
stop running. And this
gives him endurance.

Longing
is nourishing for the strong.  
It is like a window
on a high tower, through which  
blows the wind of strength.

Longing,
Virginity of happiness.

Flesh is heretic.
My body is a witch.
I am burning it.

Yes I am torching
ber curves and paps and wiles.
They scorch in my self denials.

How she meshed my head
in the half-truths
of her fevers

till I renounced
milk and honey
and the taste of lunch.

I vomited
her hungers.
Now the ***** is burning.

I am starved and curveless.
I am skin and bone.
She has learned her lesson.

Thin as a rib
I turn in sleep.
My dreams probe

a claustrophobia
a sensuous enclosure.
How warm it was and wide

once by a warm drum,
once by the song of his breath
and in his sleeping side.

Only a little more,
only a few more days
sinless, foodless,

I will slip
back into him again
as if I had never been away.

Caged so
I will grow
angular and holy

past pain,
keeping his heart
such company

as will make me forget
in a small space
the fall

into forked dark,
into python needs
heaving to hips and *******
and lips and heat
and sweat and fat and greed.