"let me be your king
among slaves."
"all I will gift would have
been free from me.
every downtrod
I will take
in favor of every of your own
development I so wish to build."
But watch what you do of him,
for our sake,
he is not playing to win,
and we felt him leave too.

the season of forgiveness
is like the cold bite of snow
that now slides down your
stinging smiling face.

i can't find all the words
     to tell you how much I love you.
i can't find all the words
     to apologize how much I hurt you.
i can't find all the words
     to say goodbye to the love that last forever.

yet i say; nonetheless- and forgive the attempt in its fruition.

the metal casket.
a machine pyre.
the ceremonial sky imparting smoke
pushed upward with each and every
of deep gray plume where they screened
into the brilliant white channeling clouds.

when we cry in each other's embrace
the love leaks, stains our shirts;
like before and thereafter.
our wintery clause has little naught but
tenderness and sweets.

when you had finally entirely let me
in,
i touched a deep and dark seed that I
found most probable
and never said it aloud in respect of
your secrets
but it never changed my view of you
and I decided
to understand how to understand you
and how to heal something like that from its root while you hid your beautiful flowers i had seen all along.

let it be true
that when
i am close to you
i'll look into your
eyes
and place your hand
upon my
steady flourishing
heart.

I thought I saw her dancing-

in between all the other little dance girls.
Her face looked kind of like yours.

Her heart was as pure as precious as pretty.
She moved confidently with vigor, control, and the power of grace, she had practiced for weeks.
You could tell with just a look she knew what she was doing.
She smiled through it all, her team were coordinated.
Arms up here, high kick there. One step where, next step with care.
The edge of an ice skater, the pen of an artist.

The music stopped and the applause roared.
She hugged her friends and they were beaming with
Christmas and Hanukkah.
It was beautiful, and I tried not to clap past any child's parent.

Because truth be told, I hadn't seen her performance just yet.
Nonetheless- I felt her, and I loved her no matter the same.
For time would tell her story to me.

there's a banquet of demise
in the sanctum of goodbyes
where the dance of lovers' eyes
leaves little sorrowed lights.

a victim of disguise
in persona's darkest blights
where a parade of trophy wives
free their bodies in the night.

if there are bad times to come,
there might be worse on the rise.
some of us go into the shadows
to ensure that if the
darkest nights arrive
there will still be a lit candlebra.
the strength of a home fortified
carries forth to whichever futures.

it's been around a year since
i lost some of my closest friends,
it has felt like a century.

motifs make our markers
make our patterns make
our God.

there is darkness
in death
and a light
that
pierces through
his cape

Our statements are in stone-
talk really is just all jabberwocky.

I dance with the pen;
it leaves my hands all
inky.

he molded the sculptures
with no one but the models in mind.
    they were angelic.
       and he took a
            picture.
   the marble was unchanging-
     regal. he thought that if they ever
needed to remember who they were
      through whoever they are
    they could look up to their own past's excellent
      persona pillars.

and there they still stand
  in any other market squares or musuems,
      leading us on one of some
  principle,
    until they are felled by
         those that are going
             through more of similiar stories.

learn to let go
and then the angels
will carry you
skywards.

to forego grace
for wisdom is
a foolish gambit

there is intense intimate power and truth within our whispers

pss !! pss !!
whatcha doing ??

she deserves love,
but does she deserve my love ?

my love has been molded by a cruel
world with nursing hands and
blessed by its mystical wandering
quandaries, is it right to allow
her into that tempestuous labyrinth ?

your stranger name
is a dangerous
palette cleanser