A harp that needs no fingers
no hand to pluck the strings
it speaks of love’s betrayal
and ****** when it sings

To be a hero
is not just about the action
but when the day is done
to quietly get on with your life
and show them that they never won

The human mind
can be defined
as a darkened cave
from the warmth of the womb
to the chill of the grave
each thought is carried on flapping wings
by tiny furry flying things
sometimes one will fall from a claw
to grow in the guano that litters the floor
the best ideas start off bat crap crazy!

True persuasion
I think that you will find
is the gentle invasion
and the subsequent erasion
of a thought in someone's mind

You have come
good
I want to dance
whirl me around
free and young
bright as summer air
fly with me in your arms
take me somewhere new
we could be ravens
watching the sunset turn our feathers to flame
walk with me now, take my old hand
I don't think you ever did tell me your name

After many near misses
sweet thunderbolt kisses
explode upon my lips
heady molten sips
which burn me
turn me to matchwood
incendiary splinters
ashes of desire
a willing victim of flame and fire

You face the window
I face the door
back to back
not speaking
hardly touching
no loving arms to say goodnight
no loving lips to greet the morning
the only thing we do together
is sleep