I'm not a puzzle,
On a map.
I'm a plated tinder-cap.
  I'm the ***...
               You watch,
                                          That never boils.

I'm not the pressure,
On your skin.
I'm the Let-Me-March-Again.
  I'm the lust...
               You hide,
                                          That ever-toils.

                  (a pause, reset)

I am the weight,
That you ride,
I am the Ever-Justified.

  I am the Blue.

               I am the Blue.


                                                         ­ I am the Blue.

She savors it sweetly,
The knowledge: he's watching.
She smiles at the lock of his sight.

His pride tries to warn him,
"Such endeavors will burn you."
Thus, he wrestles the strength of her night.

He searches through tangles,
He rifles through reason.
He pulls at the knots in his might.

"Relax, little one,
This will all soon be over,
Though enjoyed is the show of your fight."

Pressed against
And blackened since,
Eyes meet lips meet love.
But when used so loosely,
She sends, "Choose me"
Happy?
Don't look up...


Caressed again,
And lacking since,
Eyes met lips made love,
But when used so confusedly
He don't choose, but
Happily asks,
"Did we just make love?"


Walking behind that boy,
Was me-not bad,
One beautiful then sad
One more fierce than sad...

If pain is a factor
And loss is a gain.
If pain is a factor
And loss is a gain.


She's dressed again
And packing since,
Eyes made lips made love,
But when used so lucidly,
She don't choose him.
Happily, she says,
"You know, this ain't love!"

Walking behind that girl,
Was me-not bad,
One more beautiful, then sad
One more fierce than sad.

If pain is a factor,
And loss is a gain.

If pain is a factor,
And loss is a gain...

If pain is a factor,
And loss is a gain...

Then love as a constant,
Is exactly the same.

I want not the lonely,
My bed's twin is too big.
But I'm the overtaker,
With nothing to dig.

I bury myself deeper,
And wait for the dawn.
The Sun, after all,
Did yesterday come.

So hopefully a "you",
Will return, just as well.
And douse this cold fire.

This empty.

This hell.

My words love their forms,
My thoughts love their eyes.
I cheat under paper,
And oft draw their wiles.

My hands want for reaching.
My skin wants for love.
But with distanced desire,
My musings are gloved.

So I'll see you in Knaught-touch,
That nymphaeum dream,
I'll kiss you such letters,
Nuzzling alphabet stream.

Seems some of blue saved,
Is for magical beings.
It's saved for their catching of time.

The hues so cuckholded,
And off-swept by needing,
In their want for describing this kind.

They nuzzle toward greenness,
And luxuriant darkness.
And attempt wrapping around her before flight.

But none known can hold her,
She's beyond such chameleon,
Beyond color,
Beyond label.

She is light.

He lives poet lonely,
Her eyes are the guidance.
He's bothered familiar, as
She's making the tide dance.

He's glad for the distance,
For her lines, he does lean.
Though introverse common,
Many states lie between.

He found her by chance;
By a binding in art.
Of converses deeply,
He hopes this is the start.