your  tunic pupils
extractions from the sky
encircle all that which lays in your deepest masculine eyelashes
Im enthralled with your profile
meager looks of
hearts dispelled
onto something greater than life in its most simplest form
you represent everything natural
extracted from the very womb of earth

I am lost in my own thoughts
of my responsibilites
as a woman of culture and as an artist
will I forgive myself
for touching your wounds

maybe not

your judgment passes me
as a frail child looks upon his guardian
no I am not that
I cant be


yes
yes
I need these little things that make us move
with what you say
love
love
I do agree
I nod my head in acceptence
awfully
to these things I can never posess
I will speak to you in these matters harshly
you see
sometimes I come off as too intense
too ******
at times I will make you forget
that I contain any kind of beauty

I have a holocaust in my heart
somewhere in its driven corners
and a black plague forfiting casting spells
to hearts somewhere in my eyes

I have sold many goodbyes
ignored many whys
and kept many standbys

black I watched these skies
turn
red I watched these thighs
burn
and just as quickly turn
pale
with an execution that very well
lasts a year sometimes

I want to be yours
but the sun and the moon
cannot live side by side

and neither could our two seperate cores
the ****** and the sores
sleeping somewhere under the beds of these bookstores

you see
I want to be yours
but Im afraid I have been burnt single
due to my wars