A widow bird sate mourning for her Love
Upon a wintry bough;
The frozen wind crept on above,
The freezing stream below.

There was no leaf upon the forest bare,
No flower upon the ground,
And little motion in the air
Except the mill-wheel’s sound.

It’s been said that infatuation makes for a fast spiral down to
sightlessness.  But do you say the blind cannot see? I bear no
mind to mere optics for I need not the sense to possess the
sight. I have your radiance with me, branded to the backs of my
lids for I cannot help but have you always until the next time
I look upon you. With a clutch of my hand you have me at
your will. You present this present with your presence and I
shall honor this with my eyes, never to shield whilst I have
you before me. Consumed I become as you lay me down
beneath the leaves. Take all you will from me for I shall
remain exposed to your desires.

My gaze wandered up and found the leaves on fire. There
was no smoke; there was no fear for we had been the fire
all along. The flames of yours and mine together had
consumed the air of our yesterdays, leaving nothing to look
back on and ceasing the urge to look forward; we were here,
existent, ready to ignite once more. This surge required
naught save for the breaths of yours and mine to chance;
your breath compelling this sealed backdraft longing for
indulgence, growing wild with every touch, every scent,
every taste of your delicate tongue as it wrapped in mine.
The embers knew nothing of destruction but rather renewal
of that which I had longed for.

I once believed it foolish to feel the same with another
synchronously. A belief I now find fault in for just as the
two flames who dance incoherently; once they touch they
become unified in their brilliant engagement, creating a
distinct cohesion that most will undoubtedly remain unaware
to. It is that moment, that paradise we search for. A sensation
that last a moment but for those without sight, a single
moment becomes the ultimate reality of eternity; a single slice
in our whole of existence which we stay hungry for. So look
no further for I am close at hand. We have already set this
world ablaze and altered the realm of our tomorrows. It is now,
in this very moment where we shall get a taste of eternity and
there will never be anyone more adequate to share this paradise
with other than that who makes me sightless.

keep me
in your pocket
where you keep your steam
and hemlock engines burning
piston ******
glamorous  
keep me wickedly
kiss you
preach me      pink things  
winking in avalanche harmonies
sink me
get more           my deepening       deep think
pitch fork my blunt tongue
wet  and glistening
keep me whistling peaches
amorous

let me slave into you
like magma petunias teething
on hips and thighs
let me do
but you
do me      

all night  be day break mending the moon beams running through buildings
tearing down the sky by blotting out  the sunlight
threading beads of sweat into a rainbow in the ****
preying  on lips and valleys of
lollipop oysters
let me jolly your
roger

i'm supposed ta !

burn the light of fire
and wax the ears of injustice.

chide the moon
and bid ado to the reckless sun.

count the blessings of misfortunes
and wave verbs in the air--
breathing the hopeful breaths of married sandals

Label the pains of a billion rain drops and fawn the feathers
of a nightingale over the glory of failed
triumphs known as yesterday.

break the hands of a wristwatch and make a ******* of time--
for through the God in Satan was how Earth was won.

Night is for the hours
Cowards,
Let a man of God speak or night
Will continue to burn flowers

It's been said napkins are the greatest currency
For it holds the food spittle of man
Like how ambulances sit waiting
To clean up after misfortunes
And make fortunes for the fortun-
Who Ate paragraphs of spider webs
And patted weaves like black men seating at the back of the limited luxurious Q46 bus nodding heads to the noise of Toyota cameras they couldn't afford in the land where they spend $300 million to part the seas for summer entertainment
While they only spent $40 on California cuteness and walked on water with 13 Jesus' and ate at the bottom of the sea with only three tokes from the plastic bag

Let a man of God speak or night
Will continue to burn flowers
For we graduated from 30 hot nights of mathematics
Only to find that the future will always be white and in the *******

it all adds up
but you can't love
what you can't
have mock
you.

you most certainly can’t do that.

you will not consume.

Consumption will usurp you epically.
your talismans are annulled eventually.
your bulimic heart will divide shadows
with darker shadows.
a darker
dark.

cut them like cake. divide your passing into long spikes of utter void.

it all adds up
but you can’t love
what’s not there
to love
you

but quite the opposite.

and the opposite
of love
is watching Nothing
die -
but you thought
it was something
before it devoured
you
like a morsel
of speck.

like a light.

that rain in your skull
is the wish.
a tingle of snow blind clarity
an inch of
beach.

you loom wet
in fretful foam, epibenthic
I'm swinging
from the ledge of your
up close
so  far,
far
away

someday you’ll love me and that will be some day

and
that will be always
twirling in pure joy
delirious our
phantoms !

wringing a gram of wheat
from the loaf of our blood...
charming every halo's master
to skin a thief
of  reason
with a song
about
tight
lips

telling secrets to a lover
sinking ships
that have

no name