are you
satisfied?

i wish i
could have
loved someone
truly.
i am on my
solemn deathbed
surrounded by
white light.
i have spent
my life
alone,
every second
in solitude
and in
bitter loneliness.

no, i am not
satisfied.

America is an untended urn,
Not filled with wick of candle,
But with eyelashes burned,
Butterfly kisses of slaves to simmering plows,
As the Whigs, Mugwumps, and Know Nothings
Like Senates, praetors, and praefactors of old,
In new form, snare the grasshopper pulse of populace.

If we could once more lay our heads—like the universe
Rests its child’s soul in the lap of its native mother—
In our Indian maiden’s lap, where she once rolled
Maize flour and the dusted cornsilk of our eyelashes,
She could knead our eyes closed, and the stars would walk
Barefoot with summering spirit through our midnight homes.

Love is a left-mouse click, a flashing prompt,
For the cursor cross of a Crusade that never was,
And the knight who is broken on the scroll wheel,
And the lady in waiting who backspaces from the real.

i sit in profound silence
in my own presence.
no one is here,
but there are many
beside me.
i am alone.
even the stars
have their own
planets as
companions.
i, among billions,
am left alone,
but i am not
lonely.

i once loved you,
for you comforted me
like a mother does
for a child,
but i learned to love
someone else
and we left each other
behind.

i met you again tonight.
i still love you,
but
we are not
the perfect match,
star crossed lovers,
or sweethearts

i may see you
for the last time
someday,
but i will still love you
and will never stop
loving you,
because you
were my first love.

You know
There’s nothing more terrifying than you
There’s nothing more understood than me
There’s nothing more worth noting than us
And there’s nothing without the one who sets us free

le vent souffle
mes cheveux et
le soleil brille.
je vois les fluers,
ils ont beaucoup
des couleurs,
leur parfum
remplit l'air,
je suis assis
sur les fleurs
et regarde
le ciel lumineux.
c'est noire
maintenant,
mais les fleurs
sont là toujours.
je disparais
avec la nuit
et regarde les
belles fleurs
du ciel.

the moon,
so bright and full,
fills the blue black sky.
it is all one can see,
not the stars
in their glory.
she casts her light
and love
onto the world,
we relish it
and discard her.
her loving face
radiates on us,
nonetheless.