We challenged, then declared
Discovered and shared
Took care and
Uncovered, (undercover).

We shed our skins
Cooked up philosophies
Questioned
Shared raw memories.

But you were gilded

Fluttering on a distant breeze
Your words sail to me.
I pluck them from the sea,
Wipe off the salty film
And I feel free, at ease,
We’re dancing in a sort of mystery.

Over a cup of tea
We sit, and you stir honey
Into a sea of wheeling steam.

We lean back and talk of idleness.
Your eyes are preoccupied,
As we graze on common distractions.

In my soft physique
I stick to tricky things
Like far off ideas and dreams
This world is my playground.

It’s a lovely act
To take a different form
Copy newspaper headlines

They say white light
Is the presence of all colors.
If this is so, I think
Silence is very much the same.

In silence
We touch the coffins of our existance
Dream from color palates, and

Where once was innocence
He has replaced with
Dense aromas of incense
In a hollow basement,
Where time fights to breathe.

Aged through experience
He is caged into reluctance

She was made of feathers
He was made of leaves
Together they were an
Imperfect, awkward harmony.

His legs were rooted
In the firm, fertile soil
While her soul
Although loyal

You are
Moist grapes
That whisper
(‘yes’)
And seduce
Sweet succulence.

Dark, Rich
Enchanting
Your lips
Embrace a passion
That is no longer branded
But intoxicating.

little Probably
met little Definitely
together it was
destin(ie)
they plunged gung ho
hesitantly
into each owns dreams.

I Do met I (think I) Do
In pomp and circ.
the bouquet was threw

Your eyes were on the mastery
Mine were on the mystery
Combined, we were a tapestry
Interwoven idiosyncrasies.

You pulled me to His certainty
As I pierced through the sanctity

It’s hard to debate with men that flake;
Their skin makes a pile on the floor
That the next men rake and recreate.

A hundred thousand hands they shake,

Where flesh bonds form and dreams conform
To naked skin that paints a naked city
And Tunick’s whims fall victim to reform
Of stripped down cores that cry absurdity