THAT coalescing threat of fear, death,
That singular fact, it was not friendly
but a sound caressing the ears
Raising temperatures of moaning fever
And while dreaming was no release
And not evening wakefulness naively
Determined i found a third attempt
To relieve the crunching sounds so near
Inside of me i flew toward towers of
Steeples whose roofs were silver lips
And the colossal hips of Creator
And ghosts, demons, angels, and friars
AND all i see all without eyes
And all i taste so tasteful
Without lust upon the tip of tongue
Was this razor tipped extravagant mind
oh… i believe
oh… so believe
oh… my pilot of love
And a song from my ageless suit
of amour as hammers hoisted,
steel turning, piercing flesh
came the true friend: death
So… truth is sharp
so… who touches an edge
and is not cut to the soul
oh! And all i see
is as the sun and
a colorful ground
beneath the breasts
of You
and the feeling
of all the Love
searching — i follow
the shadow of my married
one. You. Me.
:: 09-18-2017 ::