When it is dark enough to hold the stars in your hands
And caress the mighty heaven's vast expanse with fingertips,
Look up.  That sky is efflorescent.  O!  All those stars
In phosphorescent twinkle, the clouds so effervescent,
Together boil an exhilarating brew.  
My lover's gaze is contagious, you see.  
May it intoxicate you to see design.

God is like a puppeteer,
That He should fashion invisible strings

To move about the dancing stars in the expanse of the midnight sky;
To bathe the Earth with light and wild colours from a new Sun;

To clothe the lofty mountains in snow;
To raise and lower the ocean tides through the pull of the Moon;

To cause foundations to tremble before His earthquakes;
To split the dark horizon with His lightning;

To give the breeze the voice of a gentle whisper;
To embrace the valleys with sweet-smelling grass and fragrant lilies;

To provide song and flight to many birds;
To shake the boughs of a mighty tree and let fall richly delicious fruit…

      So that all these things might call our attention,
Gather us all to sit down before them, watch, and fall silent.

And see
  And listen
   And feel
    And smell
     And taste

The wonders of the glorious show of His love.

Life, passing and fading,
You frown as it moves on by,
Life, calm and sedating,
Yet your beginning to wonder why,

Living, living in a box of your design,
Oh, it's quiet and nice,
Yes, and you've paid the price,
Living in a box of your design,

Why can't you see,
In this cage of rust,
Who can't you be,
When your world turns dust,

Still, you stay there,
Still, you see it,
Yet you wonder where,
In this life,

Passing and fading,
You frown as it moves on by,
Calm and sedating,
Your beginning to wonder why,

Walls fall down,
When the crows cry,
And the king has lost his crown,
Then truth begins to die,

Now you wonder,
In the field of debris,
If this were a fateful blunder,
Or an act to be set free,

Though, amidst loss,
Memories alone beside you,
Are alone to guide you,
Had it been better,

Living, living in a box of your design,
It was quiet and nice,
Yes, and you'd paid the price,
Living, living in a box of your design.

You are a book with many pages
You are a fabric with an endless design
You are a quote that has a moral lesson
You are a flower that has yet to bloom

I wish to see what's written inside you
I wish to examine the quality of who you are
I wish to understand what you mean
I wish to nurture you into what you have yet to become

I want to finish reading every word
I want to create you into a masterpiece
I want to use you in my sentences
I want to care for you, before you bloom

I will share your whole story with the world
I will show them you are the most gorgeous gown
I will show them the importance of using you in sentences
I will show them your beauty before you wilt.

Twenty plus miles away seems miniscule to those who have never felt love so existential and unconditional.
Sometimes people just fall further and further even if they can see the person on the lower end has no intent on catching them and wills they drown in someone else's ocean.
But you... You taught me how to swim in any body of water I had happened upon and I keep choosing yours, hoping to reach the heart of this ocean eventually.
Even as the ebb and flow pull me in multiple directions willing I stay away your face is all I see, your gentle voice is all I hear, your emotions are all I feel.
I am becoming one with you, as every intimate detail of your soul is etched into my brain and deemed something of the utmost importance.
People beg I come back to shore where I belong so I can discover a different vacation spot, but I refuse to quit you.
Until your storm occurs and murders me, until it washes me away for good- this is where I will remain.
Because I refuse to quit you, and with you I will stay as a permanent ornament to this specific ocean. History can not be destroyed, it can only be created.

The neighbors, they must assume,
slightly poke and ****.
Is there a rave going on, inside?
Too many light switches, dressing the walls.
A light show to the outsiders,
nosy onlookers, lurking in the shadow of night.
Pull the trousers down, give them a real show.
Two moons will shine,
a new home.
Please forgive me, I'm figuring out said design.

She used to tell me
of math and poetry
by the length of her arm
and rhythm of her heart
conversing verse and fraction
with form following the function

of communist theories
and greek philosophies.
she beat out aesthetics
with a perfect symmetry.

because no one understands
the relationship between
seafoam and shoreline
the way she does
[swimming in saltwater sorrows]

reimagining time in an hourglass,
she shot up infinities with a glance
and left me moondrunk in the night.

she emits sparks throughout my system
breaking and entering--
my kingdom under siege.

her name was an amalgam of numbers
italic1.6180399. . . .italic
and I loved her by design.