The height of pleasure.
Ecstasy 's earthquakes shake soul.
Mind crumbling ******.

A rain of shimmering diamonds
fell upon my naked thoughts of you.
In my depths spread a sparkling pool.
But your grueling absence torments
the empty arms of lonely midnight hours.
My longing hunger pangs, while my yearning devours.
Time ripped open, climb my curls to my tower.
Your heart a fairytale, both sweet and sour.
My want is my need.
My need is my want.
Desire is a mysterious savant.
Submerged in drops of your radiant soul.
Stars glisten across a sky of coal.
Drenched in destiny's dew.
Our lifetimes together have been a few.

Aching through eternity.
How can you feel so heavy
yet so empty?
Simultaneously.
Stone lead hearts
and soul black holes.
Trees ache for the riot
of supple leaves.
Aching wants
are not aching needs

I acutely ache for the return of me.

Empty deny's aching to be full.
My heavy thoughts dream
of veins of empty peace.
Nature's beauty aches to be.
Every single ache,
is a different want and a
different need.

Within a single day's blink.
Fuschia buds blossom
an exquisitely pale pink.
Impatient branches wear
their now exotic veil.
The leaves felt ******
throbbing in the gale.
Wind ruffled petals,
Glisten with dew.
The stagnant empty winter
is now a voluptuous floral view.
The naked pink will call to you.

The water was a blue universe where the soul is fluid.
Lifetime far away from the closest human grid.
Aquamarine dream, shines a glacial sheen
of a mountainside secluded lake.
Engulfed in triangular summits with their bleached
termination dust flakes.
The peace was so still and so primitively profound.
There existed no need to make a single sound.
My every hurt was soothed with liquid blue bliss.
Morning would bring a hypnotic mist.
Moistening blades of grass that are April sun kissed.
Grateful to be alive to witness such a sight.
My soul floats the motionless blue with
sweet trembling tranquil delight.

Struck by the gloss of the ebony plumage
of the raven in starlight.
His eyes an oily mystery
of the perpetual return of night.
Fascinated by his burrowing stare
at the gnarled knot in the tree.
That furnished a nest of naive robin's eggs.
Under inevitable seize.
Meaningful change has an approaching leg,
the wicked raven confides.
A need to explore the shadows
that dwell inside.
I've made companions of
the midnight hours.
In keeping with the natural order,
the pale blue eggs are greedily devoured.
To be who I am.
I left empowered.

Stories nestled in my bones
are not silent storms.
My heart is haunted
by their primordial groans.
Yet so many scattered thoughts
go unknown.
Like the frantic way
autumn leaves are blown.
What decays becomes wisdom
for another day.
Skeletal stories now, the flesh of us
is gone.
Even though we loved from the core
of our jagged bones.
Human life seems just an agonized attempt
to be heard.