I am spatial, /
I understand, /
I fathom, /
Through distance, space, & time, /
I see clearly, pristinely through you & I. /

'Do not forsake me, /
I am everywhere,' /
He says to me, /
And I unfalteringly, /
Unwaveringly, I believe /

In Him, are treasures: /
The opulence, /
The affluence, the direction, /
Of one-million /
Guiding stars. /

You are a sign, /
A beacon of hope to the lightbearers; furthermore, /
A portent, /
Ominous, pernicious, /
To the Cimmerian shadow. /

I know you /
You, /
I love /
You, /
For that I am grateful. /

What is love? /
An existential vagary? /
Perhaps not. /
It is real, it is tangible, /
When He is in my arms. /

Mi amour, /
Mi amour, /
Mi amour, /
Mi amour, /
Me encanta, mi amour. /

I am endless /
Butterfly of Virginality /
I summon thee /
Unto me, /
I do. /

Endless night /
Endless day /
Simultaneously /
Entwinement, /
Intertwinement, /

Of all fathomed, /
Impossible, yet now it is /
Through the thew, through the sinew, /
Of the spirit: /
Hallowed it is! /

I said I didn’t
but I did
I wasn’t supposed to
give a ****
Never seem to
get ahead
imagining scenarios
in my head
They’re always too good
to be true
I die alone if
I die with you
I die alone if
I die with you

End it when I can’t
seem to think
of anything that
means anything
Add a break then
start again
Treat it all as one
in the same
Treat it all as one
in the same

Repeat it to make
it seem important
It only takes more
energy
The reward is
fleeting
But you’re still
here reading
But you’re still
here reading

And that’s comforting

The end

supposedly
birds fly
In rhythm to
***
drop
drips
of sea,
for a kind of tastebud
damnation
Only a
drama contortionist could
believe in.
Ultimatums cause heavy weight
champions
to stop for champagne in the burbs,
expensive gas at a blank station
base plantation.

Come froth at the mouth at us for freedom.

Well I ain't stinking rich
And I ain't stinking poor
I guess what's important is
I'm still here stinking
And I ain't a pile of manure.

This news consoles
The heck of us,
In gestures strained imprints
On hearts.
They learned a daily bite
Of stats:
Us figured, scooped,
Against and fast.

Like that of spoons
Fed to the blind
By those dictators
Who still fly.
Plots hatching plots:
them aged and trite.
Like was it news to you?
Not in the slightest.

I water myself daily, play my heartstrings like a ukulele
the music makes me smile, my art child
I can no longer blame me, for the times you were shady
cannot stay hostile, the negativity is vile
I move on and I move in, to my new skin
I got into my groove and I let myself in
to the world of violins that play for my smirk
I was ******, hurt, and overworked
but now as I rest in my throne of pillows
I realize true peace as I watch the wind bend the willows