My morning feet ponder the pavement
Lonely eyes saluting the clouds
And the skyscrapers that grasp at the sky
The Tower of Babel
We reached god, and we branded him
Profited on his grace
So now we must build towers that shoot towards the sky
Like the twisting fingers of a falling man

you step away from me into your sweet, wild shade
& wrap your lovely being with a dark silence-cloak
you: moon of soft, warm light; you most exquisite girl
avoid my arms of child that hold the rose of love

& then you take refuge behind agonic doors
& wished to trap the wind that play & kiss your hair
& wished to wound the sky with cries of “nevermore”
& with a simple strike you attempt the world to end

you swiftly pass by me  like slender, scented creek
behind the angry wall of this flowery night
worn out, superb and hurt towards the sea of your will:

forgive the loving flame that died upon my arms
forgive this chain of grief that I wove kiss by kiss
forgive this heart of mine that madly love you still