1.
a sculpture of melting ice
evokes the elegance
of your face

boldly
you rise from my inner canvas
like ancient architecture
rediscovered

2.
a flurry of tender brush-strokes
summons the beckoning lines
of your supple body

luxuriant fields of wildflowers
suddenly surround the walls
of my castle of thought

3.
as the trembling landscape
of the present crumbles

nostalgic rivulets of silver and jade
transport me to an island universe:

here all that remains
of the space-time continuum

is the sweet coo of your voice
and the cool crisp glow

of midnight snow

The Sound Of A Teardrop Distilled Into Alien Ears

the faultless sun
sure shot us
an indecipherable gaze
that day

we drifted to the
atmosphere’s edge
naked

like an orchid blooming
against the defunct metal
of an orbiting satellite

we were left stranded
on the rooftop of the world

where regret pools
in wailing shadows

yet
together we formed Pterodactyl wings
and flew away on thin sheets of skin,
the prehistoric wind brimming
with the fitful sleep of ancient matter

2. Her Superior Genetic Architecture

she
a black-skirted spaceship
hiding in the glare of the sun

stepping lightly down
from the clouds

the brightness of her face
swaying under the slow-churning skies

beneath her
doors creak open
in anticipation

the brightness of her face
swaying under the slow-churning skies

the world greedily swallows
her rings of ambrosia
in savory lumps

leaving nothing
for the scurrying insects below

The way the stars will shine,
the way your heart rises to greet the night
the emotion of your eyes
the countless thoughts floating in your sky.

Whether or not the universe reveals all its secrets,
whether or not our lives branch out like an infinite tree,
I know I'll be searching for you in every wavelength,
I will be dreaming of you and I.

Never doubt that who you are is beautiful,
and where I want to be.

Always know that tomorrow,
I'll be dreaming of us,
existing together in perfect synchrony.

1.
To be wrapped up
in the contentment
of your breathtaking smile

to be stripped
of all Earthly burdens
by the otherworldly embrace
of your nurturing eyes:

this is all that I have desperately yearned for,
my flailing humanity seeping with starlight,
a poet’s heart thundering to the cascading rhythm of time’s hurtling arrow.

I swallow the moon and howl with furious joy,
billions of years suddenly elucidated by the purity and integrity
that you paint into the aging lines of my face,
deft brushstrokes of immortality flowing from your supremely artistic fingers.

I am the boy with galaxies colliding in his soul,
standing on the edge of the highest cliff in the solar system,
surveying all heavenly motion with a teardrop in the corner of his eye.

I am the glittering starscape above,
ripe with the fierceness of fascination,
finally released into the true momentum of living
by the astonishing emanations of your quicksilver mind,
by the ancient and alluring sway of your ocean of stellar desire.

2.
You are the girl with an empathetic teardrop
glistening in the corner of her eye;

here in the tornado’s calm
we emerge as one from this epic
and tender maelstrom:

hands and hearts held high,
ripe with the fierceness of fascination,
swallowing the cosmos and howling with furious joy,
painting the universe again and again
with the timeless sights and sounds of true love,
a universe renewed,
a kaleidoscopic bouquet bursting
with the raucous flowers of delirious enchantment.

3.
I sing us a simple song
about the passionate tranquility
that you splash against the flickering shadows of my existence.

My voice rises and falls
as the piano keys strike their heartfelt sequences.

Yet what I compose is a meager trickle of melody
intended to emulate the incalculable waterfall
of your generous and transcendent spirit.

For the endless epiphany
of your startling intellect
cannot be captured or imitated;

the irrepressible love
that you shower into my life
is a resplendent shield of invincibility.

And now I kneel before you,
dedicating my life to protecting and nourishing you,
cherishing how the fire of truth is reflected in our eyes.

For there is no greater weapon against the vicissitudes of life
than the tenderest awareness that we evoke with every kiss,
with every restorative caress,
with every deep exploration of the oceans of thought
that we once thought were only ours to visit.

4.
Basking in the boldness of our mutual awakening,
I trace the melodic edges of your sultry smile,
and I lean forward to give you a kiss.

Lies
at one time
tasted like the sunset.

Now,
the rusting horizon somehow has legs,
lumbers through our minds on iron stilts,
wading past the flood of memory
like tsunami-resistant dinosaurs.

For here,
huddled under the treacherous canopy of poetic awareness,
there is only the bone-filling momentum of the past,
arcing across the sky of ourselves like fiery skidmarks.

So we ignite,
and burn with the fierceness of fascination,
dancing jubilantly in erratic I-don’t-give-a-**** motions
that ring out like the opening salvo of War & Peace.

Lies
at one time
tasted like the sunset.

I.
Tenuously,
the aging outline
of her solemn face twirls,

tracing the meandering galactic tendrils
that emerged from her ten-thousand light year goodbye,
the kind of heartbreak that builds upon the horizon like an avenging angel,
like a city of jagged shadows eating away the starscraping brightness of the past.

As lightning bolts streak across a cluttered heartscape,
the drumbeat of time thunders forward
and we are leaves on her river,
ever approaching the hungriest waterfall.

II.
Swaying in the wind,
we can become one.

If you offer your hand,
I will hold it in mine.

If you contemplate the universe,
I will adore you even more.

If your deepest thoughts
are withering in chains
in order to smooth away
the beautiful complexities of your frail essence,
I will inject a thousand caresses and whispers
into your day so you realize there is another way.

We are artists,
with singularities dynamiting
our hearts from day one.

We are storytellers with the wintry breath
that haunts the blackness of Now
like an old woman in the window that isn’t there,
pulling dreams from absolute zero,
capturing quantum butterflies from
the expanding vacuum of space
like we were born to do it,
which we so ******* were,
my sweet.

Here,
embraced by velvet starlight,
soaring to the peculiar gorgeousness
of songs we may one day share,
the rhythms and words of the cosmos
dance across the planets and stars,
stumble towards the humble journeys of asteroids and comets,
revealing in each step that even
the most minuscule subatomic particle,
even the grandest map of the cosmic microwave background,
has always been rushing joyfully in our bloodstreams,
thumping along with every heartbeat,
tasting the immaculate heavens with every kiss.

III.
I want to see the fire
of midnight in your eyes.

Swaying in the wind,
we can become one.

I.
I tremble towards you slowly,
tripping into shuddering branches
as uncertainty whips heavy circles of anticipation
into my glowing soul.

Grabbing your hungry waist
I pluck the moon from the sky like a ripe fruit,
a meager offering to your receptive lips.

For a moment the stillness hangs;
as we melt into the intoxicating darkness,
our senses take to the heavens like magnificent owls
gliding gracefully in the unending moonlight.

II.
Your thirsty stare weaves a cocoon of hope around us,
borrowing the sticky twilight-geometry of spider silk
to meticulously resurrect every splintered forest of past regret.

Of moving on
we know nothing.

As our ambrosial kisses stammer in particles and waves
they ignite into a necklace of slumbering lotus seeds:
thousand-year memories of human regression and procession
that churn like mammoth wheels,
revealing the steady clock-like drift
of our intertwined subconscious minds
which connect like a stomach to food
after a month long fast.

It seems we’ll always have mouths
for filling, won’t we?

And what is freedom but your body pressed against mine?

Our exploring hands promenade in the faint light,
and what a journey those photons have endured:
from sun to moon to Earth
and then into the fierce waterfall
of our cascading hearts.

III.
We covet the moist essence
of our volcano-melted edges
until the segmented worms of possibility
digest the sky into swirling puddles
of florid fever-dreams that
we escape only by rebuilding
our destabilized molecules one by one
in the accelerated consciousness
of our enjoined lips.