On this starlit night I’m supposed to feel utterly blissful
but she drains away all of that and replaces it with pain that can be felt coursing through my body that it reduces me to nothing.

Rilled
as
  a Rose,
      Petals Painted                                                          ­    
            with Radio-waves                                        Billowing     ­       
                               amongst                   Bouquet of          Ballerinas,
                                         ­    a   Blossoming                                    Trailing
                                                                ­                                          New
                   ­                                                          stars                  Born
                                     ­                                and           Blushing
                                                             Foaming
                                                         ­           at their
                                                           ­                Skirts
                                                                ­              like
      wrapped                                                   ­ the      
up              like home,             Surf of the Sea
in her                    Doesn't it feel
     spiraling                                                        ­  Scented with
                arms?                                       of her sleeves,          warm
                     Sewn into       cotton fibers                                       cosmic
                                       the                                                              ­    latte?
                                                      ­                              uni-                         Oh,
                                                                ­          entire      verse             before
                                                          ­               our                                   we
                                                                ­                was                  grew  
                     ­                                                                 ­  She  // taller

Dissipate into oblivion
To become the nether
To lapse in consciousness

To enter the void
Flow to omniscience
Live without measure
To float through the meshwork

To drift through space-time
& Become the needle
To weave my percipience
& Teeter on the precipice

To transcend ascension
Ameliorate the ethereal
To glitch beyond boundaries
Defragment my surroundings

To eclipse the sun
In perpetual rapturing
Suspend reality
Be one with the everlasting

Only lonely love is holy.
Holes for souls to go out
And about as they sway.
Fewer newer ones that
Never stay. Gone they are
Shooting stars. Flying by
Quick tears of cosmic crying.
Or maybe angels at angles
Not thought possible.

I want lovely love.
Holy unlonely love.
Seen enough seraphic stars
To mimic my own. Fill my
Hole-y heart so I may start anew.
Receive the love due. I must believe
The wait is worth it. The earth keeps
turning and I weep as learning
Earns me the truth.

On a clear waking night I
Will take my aching heart
And hold it out hoping
A stray teardrop
Will fall from the sky
And stay in my heart.
Cosmic crying at such
Comic timing. It is enough
To make me wonder. Ponder
Why I do this-

It is all I can do.

like a sad lone comet
i wander

please pull me into
your orbit

The life a man does boast is but a tryst
Between the egos of his Cosmic gods,
Who jest at gnarly oaks and monoliths;
At twigs we humans foolishly are awed.
Yet such does not render us simplified;
Too great is Cosmo's pride in their amour,
But secrets we'll uncover, stratified;
Acceptance, such a silent petrichor.
So let the veil be lifted, let us see,
Existence as gossamer as the veil,
Fragile as the primrose, less the beauty,
On us, we hope, these Lover's dreams won't fail.
At night we dream of worlds beyond the stars;
Sits on their smallest finger, all of ours.

Thy ruling beauty knows of us—
Who yearn, and scorch upon our souls:
The burden of imperfect world—alas !
Our body fate's—to perish as old moles!

Yet, don't be a slave to wrenching claws,,,,
'Cause fear is feared to cease too soon—ami;
And our debt to ancestors—the law !
Rejoice well—love's sorrows of la vie !  

Thy brilliant light does know of us—
Who willingly beseech Thy Beauty,
With wistful wondering eyes at last !  
See—Thee ! O, Fiery Flames of Duty !  
  
From foreign land to our humble home—
Widespread is void by far—as I may know !
And yearns of hearts—heard in ev'ry dome;
*Subjected Harmony of Spheres to Love !