Never again
in the swirling maelstrom
will we dance together.
Your firey eyes
cut to the bone,
and in the flicker of a dying fire
I can barely see
that I am once again alone.
I once compared you to a fallen angel,
all glowing sword, and a fist
shaking in defiance of the heavens.
But, the horror, the horror of this sorrow
is a razored rain, falling in torrents.
I cannot ever touch you again.
I would rather drown,
in the blood, shed by this shower,
than to never again waver
in ecstasy, beneath the thrumming genius
of your potent power.
Oh, but sorrow, bitter sorrow,
I shall never again dance with you
in the swirling maelstrom.
Forgive me, lovely creature,
I knew not what I had done.

The oven is lively,
It’s been scrubbed clean of blue.
I watch it immobile like a Crucifixion lemon head.
Always I will love Lemonheads.

I know why the oven is so lively.
It is filled with laughter, as I laugh when I think of you.

The exterior is growing bright now,
The suture in my fingers is energetic.
You are climbing up, up, up.
The oven sings praises of you.

I know why you are singing, oven.
I granted my favor, and you granted yours.
She is returning now, her essence beats loudly.
My songs are caressing your neck.
Songs that are yours.

Greetings, hearth.
You are not going anywhere.

Absolutely

it will end how ever you wish it.

Absolutely

someone will hurt you.

Absolutely

You will be saved.

One,
Who with her words,
Has shattered and torn
And bound and repaired,
Should never be so sad
As to believe that silence is the same
As condemnation.
How can one forget
The passionate howl,
And the most tender caress.
In anger she struck
In the night of grim declarations.
Of lamps ever lit
For eyes and song and bravado and daggers.
She knew not until the dawn
That in every work, of the infantile days
Was a fragment of labor, dedicated,
To the lustre of her abyss dark eyes alone.
Eyes, which have shone in the darkest day.
Eyes, which have darkened an evening of flickering flames.
One,
Who's voice, though dissonant to ears this cold
Nevertheless, has sung the sweetest strain,
And etched southern flowers upon the brain.
One,
Such as her,
Shall always remain,
In the core of who I am
I will remember your name.

I stand among them in the open light,
Eyes closed, yet through my lids the sun shines red.
All my muscles slack,  
From them comes an aura of absolute serenity.
They dispel my nightmares with bold displays of love,
Making all horrors seem meaningless.
I do not need to beg them to stay, my angels never stray.
They obliterate my sorrow with their luminescence.
They will not abandon me, though others quite readily have.
My everlasting affection is bound to them.

Hope and surety surround me,
It is their kindness that consoles me.
No fear, no worries are beyond their cleansing touch.
My demons shed, banished and bled from my veins.
Now I stand revealed in their radiance,
Knowing that only the misery is an illusion.
Magnificent Angels, never fail me,
Two pairs of eyes in place of wings.

Once, I was excluded from love,
in bitterness I cursed all that I saw,
not knowing that this bitterness made me anathema
to the very sensations I pursued.
I spread hateful ideology,
made every effort to share my misery,
shouted condemnation at every pair of clasped hands,
every kiss I saw made me retch.

The bitterness welled up
and poured forth from me,
reppelling loves valiant attempts
at liberating me from my tower cell.
From my relatively pleasant existance
I fashioned my own tailor fitted hell,
which I wore everyday, steadily collecting filth,
so soiled I had become.

As I lifted the last shovelful from my early grave,
and prepared to climb down within
with my list of grievances against God
stapled to my shirt, so I might never forget,
my foot stepped out into the pit
but a gentle hand clenched my shoulder
and pulled me back from the hole,
and I turned and discovered love...

It does exist,
none need be excluded, if the feeling exists for some
all can be included.
Love not for the pleasure of it,
but for the pain, and strain,
so that we may constantly measure it against the ache of loneliness
and remind ourselves, that while love may be a neverending battle,
surrender to hate brings nothing but ruin.