I want to know myself better,
so I walk around with naked feet.

I want to know you better,
so walk around with wild hair.

Senseless words
stretching towards reunion.

I'm learning
the senseless circles
along the pathway
to tranquility,
but I divert myself
and go knee deep
into the dripping hips
just because they are
much lest threatening.

My mind is now warped
after too many attempts
to exploit the blessings
of eternity for personal gain.
My mind rejects that its
simple circuitry can not
contain the slightest shade
of truth and join the springs
from the ever flowing fountain.
My mind is, in fact,
the abacus of courteous deception
working to protect my heart
from such a transformative joy.

How disturbing my mind is.
It heads to perversities in
the room to the right
while the conversations of heaven
go on in the room to the left.

I like to think everything is safe,
but then there is all this fire.

A Princess of Rio drives by
******* in a tiny white car.
Plenty of times, I have been
          more aroused,
but she and her carriage
are so light
that I can do that impossible thing -
dive deep into the desire
as well as the unsinkable hope.

I am still suffering,
and the moon is still full.

Though appearing timid
like the twitch of the field rodents
my life is greater than the sky
because I know the sky
beyond its mighty heights
beyond out into the void
and all evidence suggests
the sky does not know me
and it does not know me
beyond out into the void
because there is no void
the ends of my existence
are well occupied
because I love you.

Today is no less beautiful
than the most glorious
days of the earth,
but I am still doubtful
that I will survive it.

Only a few hours left
to better catalog
all of my perversities.

Look at my face and
you can't help but notice
my captivating eyes.

Their refinement was well crafted
after many poundings of my head
against the stone wall of lust.

Now I am truly suffering,
so I must be surrounded by love.

I hide behind a great stone
hoping that the adoration
that my beloveds wish
to shower upon me
will be forgotten and neglected.

It is terrifying the manner
in which such sincere love
will purify me into anonymity,
just the same way tranquility
always threatens to do.

Come watch my master craft
in the mechanics of possession,
my spellbinding skills
in trapping beauties
that decay rapidly
at the moment of their glory.

Stupid of me to think I have agency
when I open my mouth
seeing as my tongue is always
otherwise instructed.
A sonnet of ****** passion
or a sestina of natural splendor
would really aid me most,
but the obnoxious curtness and terror
of our true vision is all my tongue
will abide. I sing, briefly,
about death and love,
because love is here,
and death is coming.

I’ve become convinced
that love is here
to ensure that I’ll die.

Now you are here,
it is you who will see the moon.
I'll walk along this road
at the height of the month
with the sun setting and
the full moon rising,
and you are the one
who does not need to care,
and I am the one
who will love you and
help you see the sun and the moon
until I crawl into my grave.

There is only one adventure,
and it takes place inside your body.

Geese flying at night
dissect my doubt with
their confident squawks,
and disperse my torpor
with the rushed rustle
of their white underbellies.