We came from the rain,
Into ourselves out of body,                                                              
Kissing— still dripping.

I am alone with you.
A fire burns in the distance,
It lights our faces
As before in the empty cinema,
Where we arrived, at some beginning,
To watch a foreign film. Our eyes,
In new utterance, murmuring subtitles,  
What words could never speak,
The tips of seats, rows of air
And the moony screen,
A tableau of feathers and cloud,
Two of us, alone, as one,
Rapt in the spread of wings.

Later, alone we dine in the Café  
Campagne. Our conversation  
Deafens a burgeoning crowd,
Coffee was nectar, our words  
Were whispering petals.
Dearest Blodeuwedd, I saw the sweetest  
Sorrow on your face, the green ocean
In your eyes, I was cleansed  
By your tears.  I have always
Known you.

Across the border on the far island,
You stepped into the waters with me
And when you disrobed you lit the stars
And the stars and my eyes kissed your skin,
Your slender legs, columns, tilting
Toward heaven, in the age of Helen,
Touched the water and the sky,
I saw the milky way that night.

Síneánn, I am your Pablo,
We are two white birds sailing
Over the foam of the sea.
Solvent to my stone, you are the hinge
To my casement world.  Rain petal
Voice, lithe, alabaster woman,
I am lost in your Sargasso eyes,
I hold your skin, my Selkie,
Sweet Niamh, I have lived  
One hundred years this week.

It is warm in the distance,
In the country of the sun,
We end at the house in Umbria,
In the autumn, there is no word
Siberia, my light Rosaleen.
Now is harvest time.  
At the great table we feast  
With family and friends  
And I am not alone with you.

Take it.
Make it.
Inhale it...a lot.
Feel it.
Like it .
Become addicted like it doesn't rot.
Your choice,
Your own.
I should've known.

Before my eyes is the war dance, the armies of light enact,
is this, one inane madness or pursuance of a vision divine?
what makes me lose my heart, to you for all the time?
White lotus of my thoughts, the blooming my every cell echoes,
we are no different, I am reminded, our union is beyond time.

Through this limitless moor, tireless miles,alone I walk,
feel your presence everywhere when the wind booms
the blazing desert sun is unforgiving, it implied this:
"I'll make him regret for his insane love, the intrepid adventurer"
even if he scorches me to death, would I ever let go of my love?"

Rain lashed, strong guests of gale pelted hailstones,
uprooted trees asked me to stop,paths became waterways,
nothing, except your face, entrenched deep in my consciousness,
was in my recall; our love,I resolved, wouldn't die, even if I fall.

White lotus of legends, in you  enshrined, is my essence,
don't pretend, you are unkind and  I am not in your eye shot,
for you the rules of love I'll throw to the winds, cross the river of fire,
pull out all the stops to reach you, may it be in this life or in any other .

We made love as strangers—
Do when they eye each other
Separately intimate in a rush,
Our bed was a rack we made
Tortuous and flesh— revealed                                                         ­ 
As it gave into itself, the moon
Conspired in our dominations,
As we suffocated in the breaths,
Way down sips, of earthy heavens.

You were my gift,
Soft, sweetness, little one,
Eyes of moon and ocean
Hills of creation, of shadow
And bread.  In your nakedness
I fled the earth and bathed
In starlight and dust at the end
Of the forever of the sky.  
In that silence,
Of exploding cosmos and vapour,
I fell, feeling in your smiles the suns
Decay, I felt light beyond
Its barrier, and was decimated
In the gravity of the neutron
Blue of floating eyes in separation.
Your faraway orbs were lost
To me in the frozen dark energy
Of shunted light and the cold
vacuum of space.
It was my birthday
And you were set on leaving.
It was my birthday
When I nearly died.

If the tiles of talking
are replaced by something else,
say, lexical snowflakes,

where will our linear minds be?
It's not that we don't understand
weird, multifoliate simultaneities

in dreams, in anguish,
or in ecstasy. It's just
the rest of the dumb time

we stand there and pull
from our mouths a usual
piece of numb string.

When you touch,
It is withholding.
When you moan,
It is suffering.
When you smile,                                                    
It is mercy.
When you laugh,
I am placated.
When you swoon,
I am not there.
When you vibrate,
I only witness.
When you taste,
I only imagine.
When you love,
I am unknown.

When you sleep,
I do not exist.
When you wake,
I am in dream.
When you cry,
It is like beauty.
When you leave,
There is desolation.
When you arrive,
The lost are found.
When you pray,
The birds take wing.
When you dance,
The world opens.
When you break,
I am complete.

I want to write something for you, love,
But I am afraid that not even the sky
Or the deepest waters of the ocean
Can compare to your eyes.

I wanted to sing something for you, love,
But, again, I fear that no lyrics are pure
Enough to describe you.
No words are beautiful enough to pleasure
Your ears as your voice pleasures mine.

I wanted to touch you in some way, love.
A way that would create sounds from your
Chest as it rises and falls, a way that
Could let ecstasy fly throughout your body.

I wanted to be better for you, my dearest,
For you are the epitome of perfection
And imperfections that are, by definition, beauty.

I realized not long ago that you, a man with a sweet mind,
Thought of me as beautiful enough and created the image,
In both of our minds, that we are perfect,
And will forever be *one.