Your presence passes me
like a slow-moving satellite
revolving around
my head, slurred
into mesh—so gravitated.

Love is a shade which
covers me close
to your body, in sync
like the movements of the planets,
pivoting harmonious in the
deep, dark mystery
of your sheltered embrace,
and the universe seems
to settle around me
calm and constellated.
  
Your eyes, a deep depiction
in the mind, so starry, I
see nothing more
but stars.

Bright as the brilliance
of the fire of my affection
at the core of my soul, lit
with passion, intense
as a thousand suns, a
million moonlit galaxies,
is my love which seems
to have no end.

Your presence passes me,
a slow-moving satellite
revolving around
like a moon to Jupiter,
boy, I feel that pull.

Cupid the Roman god of love,

flew down like a dove.

Striking arrows to bring people together,

hoping the love lasts forever.

Son of Venus and Mars,

pictures portray him surrounded by hearts.

His name means desire,

he likes to set hearts on fire.

His mother was the jealous kind,

I women better than her, she did find.

She ordered cupid to find her a man,

but evil was her plan.

She told cupid to choose the vilest man,

to take this women's hand.

As cupid sat on the edge of the girl's bed,

he scratched himself with his arrow head.

He couldn't help but fall for the girl,

his mother was set on sending to hell.

He would visit her each and every night,

telling she could never catch a sight.

Two evil sisters she had,

who told her this guy was bad,

so one night she couldn't help but look,

cupid didn't take this well, and off he took.

She searched the world for him,

and didn't stop til Jupitar stepped in.

He gave her immortality,

so she could make her love for cupid reality.

Now they live happy together,

with their daughter voluptas forever.

Cupid and his wife Psyche,

flew off into the night.

She is witty but subtle and her light skin is the mark of imaginary lines A brilliant colour in figment like fairy light She never sings with water voice or bubble inside empty songs. She is the spectacular,the voice from flageolet and violin flick of soulful heart.I reckon her poem even this ode consoles her enemy of epic jelousy.She is seaview magnificent petal in vase.l wear you a pure crown with beads and cowries of silver colour you own the jupitar in our planet,my wonderful Queen

Eat the womb of your daughters,
And drink the blood of your sons,
Drag your spouse into the woods,
And whip them with thorns;

Prepare the cauldron,
And play the requiem,
Be drunk thirsty fellows,
Gladly fill your cisterns,

We shall fill the streets tonight,
As the righteous falls,
Creep into their childrens bunks,
And wait for the master's call;

"Waaaaake uuuup, waaaaake uuuup",
Quietly we will whisper,
And afflict them with sorrow,
And sink them in despair",

Do not cry dear parents,
When your children go astray,
It is us who have done it,
Yes, we desire it this way,

We run the final lap,
So rejoice children of the sun,
It will be over soon,
Then will our battle be won.

Abide by the letters of jupitar,
Do not trespass,
Read out with boldness,
Happy Ex- Mass

The suns
The moons
The stars
Uranus
Saturn
Earth
Jupitar
So famous
Galaxy 1
2
3 and
4
Would just love
To learn more
All suns
The yellow
Red
And blue
Makes me wonder about
How they do
Now mix it all around
And put it in reverse
and what do we have?
The universe

Pressing forward
For no reason
But the smell of sulfur
Being too much
To take.

To retrieve
Is not the same
As to receive and
Is not the same as

To take
Day in n'
Day out.

Today I
Yesterday she
Tomorrow we
Two days and between Jupitar I will

Make certain.

Then,
There was the God's
Laughter who's spittle

At noon,
Were actually
The volcanoes eruption.

Man
This orange juice
I've never had it
Before like this.

Then,
I thought/We thought,
Watch who knows
The history
Of what we eat - where does
The foundation
Of routine originate?

What shape are we in?

And then,

Men and women fled
For no reason
Than their
Own
Revolution of autonomy.

At last,
They had a reason
To survive
For themselves.

I put the book down.
Imagine packing it in
Like that - true terror.
No, I was not simple,
I was down, so down,
Yet I hear the sound of
Someone, Something
Telling me I am here,
I'm here to stay.

Put pen to paper for
The

Martyr, with their nodding heads,
Hysteric,
Void of empath but,
Filled with Coca Cola.

I like it here,

It says.

I don't like it here yet
My name is your name
At the end

Of the day.

We all, in our way, are forced to agree.

Their body told them
To do what they did
Because that
Is what the body is supposed
To do - survive.

Have you held the flame to eye?
Sea song to ear?
Invalid barnacle cast in Childress savior?
Morning cloud star girl?

To flee the volcano
Is the heiress
Fleeing money.

To flee the dust of

To sense
The end
To foresee
The curling of one's toes
The death rattle in the lungs
The flutter of now fantastical memories
Soon to be spoken
On no tongue
Other than the one's you loved,

Is to be present,
Life in the presence
Of death.

When everything
Comes into focus
For the first and last time;

In the moments before
The after.

Those that make it
(Few do)
Clawed their way to the ocean.
Forearms, eyelids, nostrils were filled with ash
Yet realized

The next dawn.