i have been in this boat before
just going with the flow
not contemplating the course ahead
blissfully swaying with you

then the stream rocks a little louder
and we, exhilarated by its motion
invite its all consuming power
raging with the rivers of passion

we cascade with the water
not realizing we've reached the edge
and we fall.... deep and hard
along the way you let go of my hand

i wake in the dark, cold and alone
shimmer of light overhead
blurred by my tears
heartbroken I claw myself out;
out of this well of despair

The heart, the warmest sea;
night dives in
chasing dreams,
then suddenly
the day has come ashore;
a smile crawls blissfully
and parts the waves
to reach the sun
to ask for more
of the same
exchange of warmth

mid-night flower
dare to bloom
unfurl as
moon
wanes

petals soft
velvet smiles
soothe these
waters
deep

echoes rich
Handel's dirge
breathe
your last
embrace

Calm was the bluest of waters held back behind her glass.
With just a few words spoken that glass began to crack.
As if the highest note was reached from the lungs of a singer of opera,
the glass broke completely and I couldn't even stop her.
The water rushed and I held her close,
becoming the destroyer and her comforter; somehow I still mean the most.

Though man seeds no milk
she feeds upon my breast,
gluttony sustaining upon my
being and I am irrigated.

She is subtle on her needs
gently massaging me into
subjugation and I wilfully
rest upon her jagged shoulders.

I am a depleted image that is
fading with the contemplation
that I am but a vessel of her heeding
and soon I will be a husk of silence.

But in tainted milks there is thoughts
of freedom, that stigmata on her
yearnings and sour aromas now tainting
her hold over my essence now screaming.

I was her substance, now I am desecrated
shell of near nothingness. But I'm wilful
of her disposition and she is fading upon
the lilies of waters that drown her needing.

She is drowning in ill thoughts wanting to
devour my being, but I am a new blossom
and she is that which has fallen a leaf of
decayed time and I am now a free flower.

Lost souls wandering on the shores of love,
     looking over the shipwreck,
     wanting to cross the waters,
     not wanting to get their feet wet.
The ocean is too icy for their salty tears,
and their eyes of pond too warm for the sweet, inviting waves.

Lost souls wandering on the shores of love,
     dying for a sip to quench their arid hearts,
     wanting to drown,
     not wanting to dive.
The trenches too shallow for their collapsing lungs,
and their breaths too deep for such a shoal sea.

Lost souls wandering on the shores of love,
     wanting to get a taste of the crashing waters,
     choosing to eternal be walkers and gazers
     and lost and trapped on the coarse, sandy shores
     and chafe their soles;
     and remain unfound,
     meandering souls.