Our times were great until we parted. I just hope I left you better than when we started.
The Devil's work.

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.

how many times
can we part
and still remain whole

That night I saw you sail
on wind made into words
on surf breaking in sound
on foam-crested verses
and your song called again
rolled back and called again
in this storm of meanings
wrecks were made of reason
my tears became the rain.

senorita, his lover, my glass shards
it was one of the shortest nights when
he brought the bright girl-child
in slacks to the backyard

in a waning day, salty skin, mid-july
by the waters of lethe, he found his annabel Lee
he shivered when retracing the gleaming july
when i was forgotten and he was loving annabel lee

he knew anything would last forever in summer
but forever was wasted and short-lived
and so he walked her out and drove her home
and made me listen to their parting songs

oh, the radio hurts! change the station, please?
(no, said my man) and he kept on driving away from annabel lee
and so the song played through seven red lights
and i collected the shards and dust of his crushed heart