When you're immortal
all beauty is left to wilt
except your own reflection,
you can't help but to fall
in love with yourself.

I don't know if I ever want to have my poems
immortalized in a book, to sit on some shelf untouched
a reminder printed on blank pages; my love, and my pain
organized into pretty poetic arrangements for other's viewing pleasure
for strangers to know me that intimately on a level I barely understand
I can't comprehend--

my love, and my pain, indeed
the love I have is beautiful, and worth sharing with the world
but I dont know if I could immortalize the pain it has caused me to love so throughly
so completely have I given myself over to everything
followed the winding paths through heartache and back;
I would much rather forget them here, forget the past

Here you are -
frozen in time.
Here i have captured
The warmth of your smile

Lines speak experience,
Framing ageless eyes.
Your infectious radiance
Tells me no lies.

No joy is contained,
No emotion forced.
There is no need for restraint -
No need for remorse.

This moment will survive,
Unspoiled by time and wear.
Even after death arrives,
You'll always be there.

Come lay with me and let me
Feast upon the ambrosia
And **** the sweet nectar
Of your slender body
Until we both feel immortal
And push fear aside
For one night
Then let’s do it
Again
And
Again

My first life lasted long enough
A wife I loved and children real stuff
The war changed everything
Family dead except for my son
where was he when we won?
Forget it all

My second life a depressed teen
Counselors fail to make me clean
Phonographs and tapes
The start of my new life
Why do I keep thinking of my wife?
Forget it all

Third life wasn't strong
Discrimination with my hair long
Women disguises aren't the best in 1900's
This goes with my fourth and fifth
I really wish this was a myth
Forget it all

Sixth was really fun
Did some drugs and went to clubs
Became a show host
They all found out
They started to shout
Forget it all

Aute Lun didn't go to heaven
Nothing phased number seven
His life did not last

Number eight was burned to the steak
That hurt I needed a break

Poor sweet number nine
His bills made him commit
Suicide

Ten and Eleven
Nearly became convicted felons
But they got too sick to even try
Forget it all
All these lives
Do they matter?
Just forget...

Number 12 was one of the longest
A guy by the name of Alex Coneales
I was finally myself again
I made a friend or two
They help me through
They never know

Wilson Maxwell a friend with laughs
He found my tapes, my phonographs
We exchange our secrets
He says he'll help me no matter what
He knows too much so I keep shut
I'M SCARED
FORGET IT ALL

Modern times, mystery here and there. Lore and stories.
Spellbinding to my soul. Eyes wide open. Manifestations
over to my hands. One eye and everything that I’ve ever
wanted, within one arm’s reach.
(knowledge variable)