His blade
is a stainless mirror
with edges tempered
to bend and breathe
a mortal whisper.

It cuts perfectly inside
the one who crosses the night,
restlessly tearing its blinding veil
for a glimpse of tomorrow's light.

The wanderer sleeps
with the enemy within,
ready to pierce his life
in a single dream

and so he enters —unafraid,
the endless doors of undoing,
for all that empties into the blade
is a lightness of his own becoming.

Deep the wounds may be
yet he never bleeds;
His blade is an undying breath
when Death follows beyond him.

The Sea may be salty
but she keeps men afloat
in their rocking boats
like an undulating symphony,
so when they meet
waves of spite and grief,
a tempest from which
they cannot retreat,
their anchor becomes Neptune
for they know this storm too
will pass soon
and the clouds will unform
in the light of the moon
to greet them with her
radiant beam
as they arrive on the shore of
the island of dreams.

shadows are born from light,
but darkness is not the absence of sight
so follow the stars in their endless flight,
O child of the night.

where light meets the shade
is where the journey begins,
with no horizon the eye can see
so too the boundless feeling within.

reading the lines
of your lips
a softness of spoken dreams
those that are slightly parted
always giving,
always breathing
life

You are not without flaws
and this makes me
like you even more.

Because you gave me life,
I kneel down at your side
with my hand on yours,
my lips on yours
and a whisper of mortality
in between.

like the twirl of a coin, this heart
quivers and falls, slowly
until you spin me again.

Moth, dancing moth,
dance to the light. Dance to the death.
Break those wings to free the flight,
the sea is far and here is no hearth, not here.

Fly, moth, fly
away from the lilted breeze so to breathe easy.
Your heart is in shock; Moth, go back to
from where you come.

Moth, falling moth,
no crevice in sight, dear moth—where has your illusion
gone? Moth don’t waste time, hurry yourself and
cease the end, in through the spaces and far from time.

Wingless moth, pained.
The light shines only on you. What disturbance (perturbing the soul)
held moth back?

Come along now,
Come and let me walk
With you.

Walk by my side
Walk in the endless night
‘Till the moon reaches its zenith, the stars
Bequeath us their shine.
Trees are obscurities above our eyes;
They keep us away, far away
From all that is menacing.

I lie on the ground, on the grass,
Where the milk of the sky
Has drenched the pathways
On which our footsteps breathe
Quietly.
The key that resides
In your pocket quietly rattles,
So to speak the song
Of nightingales and wraithlike winds
And hushed memoirs
Silently singing in the mind.

Hurry along now,
Into night’s sombre,
Outstretched arms and
I will follow.