I've got bloodshot vision obstructed
By ash and smoke,
Grit and smog and ember.
The heat is always there, in the flame,
In the smoke, in the air --
In your hands,
Tickling the edges of my face and
Licking at my hair.
And even as the water level
Passes over my eyes, wetting my
Cheeks and jeans, I can
Still see you as
Clearly as the future we've etched
In the streets we've walked,
Down to the black robins that
Will settle on your face in the
Light of the campfire.

When the dust has settled and
The ashes scattered,
When the sound has all died out and
The leaves are left dry to crunch underfoot and
The doors to our homes are neither open nor
Closed but rotted to the ground where
They used to stand,
I'll still be sitting by my tent with my
Lone guitar, looking across the fire
Into your eyes focused on the
Mountains behind me, and
I don't think there's a single ******* thing
That could make me ever look back.

When I sleep in my room alone in my bed,
I lay with my back to the wall,
because an inch out is the edge, and be it hardwood
floors or knotted cedar trees the dark
permeates the room.  
There's nothing there, but I can never bring myself to
put my back to the unknown blindness beyond
my bed.
But when you sleep next to me in our twin bed, your feet warm next
to mine and more than half the blanket bunched under-
neath your chest;
when your drooling wets the pillow we share and
your warm breath tickles my nose,
I face the wall. I face you.

Swords and secrets slice the
Air like dragons wings, and
Meat and mead are split
Through thick beards and
Fair maiden faces, and
The songs and words pour
Out fantastically as my eyes
Soak up each page. But nothing
Will ever be as wonderful, or
Fantastic, or so awe inspiring, or
Purely powerful or magical
As those Oaken eyes that keep
Sentinel on my face, that perch
In a cream face of radiating
Beauty, a captivating to
Rival any story.

When we're out on the porch
In the heat of the sun, there's so much
Wonder about you --
I can't derive the tangent lines of the
Curls of your hair, or measure the
Light absorbance of your oaken eyes --
I can't integrate the perfect curve
Of your goddess body, or
Figure the infinite sum of your
Love for me --
I can't equate the fractals that
Make up your palm,
But I can kiss them all the same --

I can take you in like I do
The flowers I plant outside my
Window, more endless math
I don't care to figure --

Because just you with me, is
All I ever need.