There is a quality to desolation
that I have never seen.

I have been in a desert, touched
the aridity of it’s soil, and its
air like hot feathers
on my breath;
I have seen the sea far out
with only a blue smudge on
the horizon
to mark our return.
But I have never felt that terror,
that awe and loneliness
that has been spoken of,
and said by the poets
and deliverers,
to bring ones face
to God.

Do not misunderstand me.
I have felt these things;
at the end of a trail
leading nowhere,
on a *****
with loose stones
for footholds.
I have been in places of terror
and beauty,
and been overthrown.
But not wholly.

Perhaps
I have not been still
enough, have not lingered
in those part-wild places
that have seen the summit
of my fear, my longing.
Perhaps even they, even
they, have what I seek.

Perhaps
I have not been still
enough.

With a twinge of internal dissension
I realized that I had  all along
been ******* nothing else,  but air.

This made  me--  a dedicated loner..
smile, profoundly.

I chased myself around the room..
playing,  hard to get..
But me
with me
will always  be gotten.

I  got  that, my loves
..get that?

Life is a play
But not a play where one
                                               feels ecstatic in its ecstasy
All you need is
                            To wade bitter rivers of grief
                   and
                                        Battered desires

A beauty that causes awe, that's your aim,
And a defence, this strategy called "it's all the same";
But there are cells for the marrow and cells for the brain,
And to call them similar seems rather quite insane.

Cause it takes mind to understand patience,
It takes defeat to finally accept the loss;
For only when all is lost, all can be regained;
That's the price to pay to understand the cost.

　　And if I didn't have that pill to swallow,
　　I'd call it bang for the money first thing tomorrow.

Around they gravitate like you're a shining star,
To take part and implode and beg a mighty roar;
It's a science for the desperate — no it ain't no art;
A beauty for the primates more than a beauty of the heart.

They slide down the usual paths of expansion
While we swim against pale currents of fog;
With my renounce I won't pay this ecstasy a call,
I won't beg a mighty roar, no I won't beg no more.

　　But if I didn't have that pill to swallow,
　　I'd call it bang for the money first thing tomorrow.

Now twice-spoken idioms might ring a bell or two
Like missed phone calls in the middle of the afternoon
I've gone out of my way to move out of the road
But I know that your fake beauty's just waiting to unfold

It's too easy to cast the blame, too easy to throw a bone
I've seen lightning bolts fall, I know who's on the phone
The dogs always bark along when they hear the thunders roar
It shouts across a sea of life, it's calling from afar.

　　And if I didn't have that pill to swallow,
　　I'd call it bang for the money first thing tomorrow.

I await him, naked, head bowed, kneeling
With leather and rope he binds me tightly
Deft hands’ feather touches send me reeling
Melting candles ready, burning brightly  
He blindfolds me then gags me with a bit
And through the darkness, slowly I am led
To a place where in pleasure I shall sit
‘til ecstasy claims me upon the bed
He’s summoned the small death from me thrice now
Three rounds; it does not end with my pleasure
“You’ll take and like what I give you,” he growls
We’re done when he pleases —at his leisure
After all the teasing, pleasing, and pain
We collapse together —one, once again

Dear Venus of my Heart,

The Solstice of blue, once flourishing with fiery flowers red, the petals of our garden froze. The chimney of our cabin of dreams, ambitious as Alexander's attainments, pops with the fog of the remnants of heat. We used to defy the now frozen roaring raging river of time and drink from the abstract notion of forever. For me, it felt like years embracing the elation of our entangled hearts, despite the days that went by. But reality is a grey mirror, and, in a hoard of wretched ways, I wronged you. Our Ecstasy, even extremely enlivening, was fleeting in behalf of my secret despair.

Imagine I a long-lasting love, a motto that guards me of any break. An unpierceable vowel, a couple for life, to live like lions loyal, bold and courageous yet entwined. So, to pour my emotions akin to the biblical flood and undergo an Ophelia, or even a Mimì, to subversion it distresses me. The motivations of mine may map me as an adamant, but I am a romantic, a believer of one true love. I just worry my machine shall yield to the snap of the edge and the ever yearly youthful yearning of restless consummation repels me. While passion is the feeling of the flesh, love is the feeling of the soul; one mate shall be fate. And my soul longs for you in spite of the lonely length that loosens our bonds.

Thus, out of my outrageous offense, I repent. I lament my vanity, this vividly voracious scruple of kissing way before and tragically after the priest's last words without a care for the bride. I apologize for this erroneous early enamor and the ceaseless insistence to the raw departure, leaving echoes of you in pictures of us. But now alas is time for my final parting, to let go because move on I shall. Heart breaks for heart's sake.

Forever and always,
H

PS: The fog shrouded our cabin of dreams. I feared going back to our place. But doubt no longer clouds my view, so I cleared the mist. Still, the chimney's black stains cannot be cleaned. Hope for this house rests on its grave. However, a new home is just around the corner. It is up to you to build it with me. I will be waiting.