You share a namesake with Aphrodite,
the Sea,
that which sparks a flame inside me,
seeks to turn the waves to steam,
to drift away as if a dream upon waking,
to see that there truly is no breaking of hearts,
and to start the making of stars born to be us
through combustion.

The dust and rust on a cosmic sword
without a sheath is bequeathed again to the sea,
and the back and forth of wave and flame
rocks us to sleep;
where the steam weeps
and we meet.

Flame unburning,
ever bright,
turn the darkness
into light!

Eyes uncovered,
sacred sight,
turn the day time
into night.

I have faith in the omnipotence
of my true self
and am not distracted,
discouraged, or worried
by those matters in which
I feel
I have no control.

THIS
is not
BLISS
is a
SIGN
does not define
so much as a
LINE
does not make a
SHAPE
does not make
MOTION
is not
TIME
so much as
YOU
and
I
make each other.

Let us not persist pointing
lest the moon be hidden by hand shadows.

Do not make a meal out of a map
when your feet long to eat a path.

What base is made broken?
Do doors not start open?

Truth is not a fabric
stitched of FACT,
but an open invitation.

Perfection as your goal,
shed upon it no worry
and take from it no hesitation.

Infinence is most easily reached
counting down.

A cloud
low to the ground
reaches 'round my neck
and down my shoulder;
no colder than your stare
and the fair white of
skin, sun amiss.

There, you look left
than back at me
and seen by we
a menagerie of
habits
breeding like rabbits
and feeding each other
of their own flesh.

Here, you look right
and night is upon us,
and the cold gives way
to starlight and fire.

Heat moves quickly in the dark.
Shed of its shining coat,
blinding cloak, of
how to us
it seems to be.

The clouds
low to the ground
ascend
and pretend
once fallen down
not to recognize
our faces
as a river.

All my testament to this,
that there is not a greater bliss
than that which comes of sweet release
as I step outside to ****.