Her wisdom is vivacious and magnetic
When our lips touch it's beautifully kinetic
We are just two energies brought together as one
To charge each other up until our time on this Earth is done.

Don't quest, like a hunter, for romance,
Pursuing prey, cunningly, to its lair,
Eyes stung by lust,
Quiver unslung to unleash arrows
Blindly, to win a heart.

At quests end, coveted trophies are lost,
Smothered to lose their free spirit,
Or flitting away, out of reach.

Is romance not a dance of equals,
Equally paced,
Equally poised,
Equally purposed?

Two hunted souls, warily learning trust.

The hunter often catches the prey,
And yet, still loses the game.

I count the pills that were discoloring into the bile on the kitchen floor.
Like when you hold skittles in your sweaty hands for too long.
The contrast between the comparison made me shudder.
Though at that moment I did feel like a child.
The red was almost comedic against the white tile.
The beer cans were a crescent moon around the scene.
I can see you there sitting on the cold floor.
Palms on the ground, back against the corner.
I can see it and you were beautiful.

I straighten up.
My heart tumbles down into the pit of my stomach.
I feel so selfish.
I was glad to have you as my companion in this alternate world.
This world where for so long,
I felt like the only one to want to live there.
Now you are here, with me.
Of course you are.

I

The Princess sings:

I am the princess up in the tower
And I dream the whole day thro’
Of a knight who shall come with a silver spear
And a waving plume of blue.

I am the princess up in the tower,
And I dream my dreams by day,
But sometimes I wake, and my eyes are wet,
When the dusk is deep and gray.

For the peasant lovers go by beneath,
I hear them laugh and kiss,
And I forget my day-dream knight,
And long for a love like this.

  II

The Minstrel sings:

I lie beside the princess’ tower,
So close she cannot see my face,
And watch her dreaming all day long,
And bending with a lily’s grace.

Her cheeks are paler than the moon
That sails along a sunny sky,
And yet her silent mouth is red
Where tender words and kisses lie.

I am a minstrel with a harp,
For love of her my songs are sweet,
And yet I dare not lift the voice
That lies so far beneath her feet.

  III

The Knight sings:

O princess cease your dreams awhile
And look adown your tower’s gray side—
The princess gazes far away,
Nor hears nor heeds the words I cried.

Perchance my heart was overbold,
God made her dreams too pure to break,
She sees the angels in the air
Fly to and fro for Mary’s sake.

Farewell, I mount and go my way,
—But oh her hair the sun sifts thro’—
The tilts and tourneys wait my spear,
I am the Knight of the Plume of Blue.

cold hands
around my throat
dragging me under

i hold my breath
and clench my sheets
as if they were
an anchor

but when the wave hits
i am always swept away