A lesser man couldn't have written your poetry,
and a lesser woman would have found herself
in someone else's poems;
but today is unlike other days
and words are not scrambled, inarticulate and senseless
lying with an immaculate muse,
you just have to fuck her
long enough to make her worship you
to guide your hand along the pathways
to her soul,

do not let her out of your sight, do not weep
if she seems reticent to entice you to her bed,
do not go to sleep
with words you keep.

Stamped out errors on vintage coins
a unique response to a phrase just turned.

Maybe a club only agoraphobics joins
or the number of times an Eskimo gets burned.

Several, icy-cold, mid-summer breezes
a moment so magical, it makes you aware;

even the causalities from unknown diseases
all of these things equal something, rare.

All my life I've tried to be unique
with my individuality defining me, too;

thinking out of the box, and resembling a freak,
yet proud my own signature still shined through.

Those brooding eyes and tensed brow had mystery
Questions need answers, and She was curious
With a slow dance of seduction, she bound him,
made him a prisoner

He smiled and endured for a score of years
She never figured out, what his mystery was
Losing interest long ago
Left alone in his cell of despair, he plotted...

Coils of cold, slithered in to wrap around his soul
There were lies in the mirror; he heard them whispering
Eyes followed him wherever he went, and he knew...
The world conspired against him

May the darkness accept the light
and shadows cringe no more
may distance be surpassed and unsurpassed
by its own beauty breaking through
my heart to yours,
your heart entwining mine;
may we touch the embraceable
with its untouchable mystery
may we speak the language
of love in its ten thousand intonations,
may we use our time wisely
to join forces with the light no clever darkness
can escape,
may we always be children
in wonder of it all
dancing in the flame,