You are not a martyr
You're not a knight in shining armour
You're a serpent, eating it's tail
But who's the snake charmer?

Get some sleep, my love
Do not stay awake
To prevent the pain of the morning
You'll arrive there anyway, and
You'll fare better
Well-rested

She is an art exhibit, and
I'm just trying to
Proceed past
The velvet rope

To examine her
Mind, body, and beauty
Up close

I will leave your
Plums in the icebox
However, cold and sweet they may be

I will not borrow a cigarette
Or inhale
What you've released

I will leave that typewriter
Alone, and
All of it's working keys

I will not collect afterthoughts
That you ball up
And discard nightly

I will no longer consume your words
Like cyanide, and
Sun-warmed tea

I will let the worms consume you
So you may
Sleep in peace

It's a dark world that we live in
Where starving mother's die in donation bins
It's a cosmic lottery, and we're just a number
Some people are born to feel nothing, but hunger
Peter Brabeck said it's not a human right to accessible water
This is not the world I dreamt of for my daughter

A rose in a wine bottle, or
A thorn in your side
A collision of hearts, or
A meeting of minds
Rivers connect, and
Stars align
Chaotic harmony
Without reason or rhyme
A chemical reaction
Burning with passion, or
A moment frozen in time

Pulse irregular
Like my sleeping pattern
Rings 'round my eyes
That would spark the
Envy of Saturn

There you go
Writing about space again
Instead of examining
The shape that you're in

It's easier to project,
Or talk in third
Than it is to implement
The advice that you've heard