I am afraid of the way need
Grasps my very bones
I cannot contain this emergency
Screeching through the fissures of burgeoning intent
These irretrievables
Release and tighten
The elusive alchemy of balance
The havoc it wrecks on the senses
All these feet can do
Is chase the wind
Frail hand's outstretch
In the static of melancholy

Sinking in this shred of light
Intentions laid bare
Dragging the tremble of a jilted lover
I remain vaguely haunted
All I have ever embraced slips from my quivering hands
It's the obvious approach
This matyring
These are the bones I am made of  
Incessant heart's roar
The violence it wrecks on the senses

Long stretches of weary silence
Laboured sighs
Devoid of concrete
Lost among the stray remarks
Certitude becomes magic
Feigned ambivalence
My desires tucked behind my teeth.

I do not know why or how
I conceived the notion
Of being the exception
Where has irrevocable devotion drained away to
All I know is nobody I know has it.

He softens my spirit
Sorely by being
Touch laced with prose
My bones delicate
Holding soothe
In the palm of his beautiful hands
Feeds it to me with reckless abandon
I know not where he has been
Nor where he is going
My very own path riddled in murk
Faithless destiny veiled in azaleas
I have worshipped in wrong alters
Built cathedrals with the bones
Of withered ghosts
The misspent vermilion on the floor
The way the darkness
Catapults a disappointed heart
Still, I love
It is for such, I agitate my heart.

Vine dangles from fingertips
Moss coils around
These tired and desperate attempts
To quench the thirst of affirmation
Frenzy tapering into soothing complacency
All my intentions swallowed by the haze
Grasping at impalpable forevermore
The alluring unattainable
Maddening desire for lace
All my sacrificial longing carried to sea
Beings with dead devotion
The ghosts on the shore
Wash up at my feet.