Lava pouring into the sea!
which is you and which is me?
either or we are the steam.
this is how 1 and 1 make 3

Everywhere there are
people laughing, let them laugh!
let you laugh as well.

kiss me please.
kiss me hard.
let it leave
a mark, a scar.
let it burn and be a star.
kiss me please
and leave me charred.

I'm not so far away
as to miss it when you say
the way you feel.
i'll listen
and i'll pray
that it's real,
and steal a kiss
so that we may pay
only attention
to the tension between
our blue pools
atop mountains,
bringing them both
to the valley
to meet in the middle
and make up the sea.

kiss me.

Stuck everywhere are secrets you've heard before.

Sometimes the things i have to say
don't escape past the tips of my teeth
because the rigid parts of me
are afraid to tie knots
that can only be
undone
with a knife.

We;
the generation
that forgot the meaning of memorable,
so keen on trade
as a means to claim
or apply value,
that this,
only this,
is seldom enough.

I used to think that pain was the most motivational thing i could feel,
but as I was bound to be taught,
told in blessings by
teachers
i was trying to
train,
it's either a lesson in love
or a lesson in release.

We burn when we're
young
to cool down when we're
older,
but as a sum
does it freeze?
does it smolder?

Excuse me miss, I
couldn't help but to notice
your demon's peeking

Though the names of deities
shall echo through echelons eternal
the nature of their faces
will be never
on our
tongues.

And yet…

Even on the tip I forget.