Song of These Last Encounters

I have lost self to love
Permanently, now by this heart
Furled, in primitive ecstasy
My relationship with the world
Is now a suppliant violin’s moan

That drags itself to dovelet cooing
These moments are lucid gifts
Of touching and nearing
The broad brightness where self is forgotten
Pain lurking in an unknown smile

I have lost the bravery of battle
Against this harsher world
I have only whispered steps enshrined
Left to twist my path, a needlework
Of rustling greenery, I am not real

Life’s touch is an unflinching desire
I follow her narrow canal to the light
There I will consent to rest my head
On your womb, enter you heartlose on the scale
With lots of luck, songs of last encounters

I have lost self to love, cast adrift
In one-night stands of the dark house
Where lovers whisper “come die with me!”

I Must Now Conceded the Victory & Listen

My cries have called the world home
No woman of my past heard them
They were, the flight of fathoms lived in the past
The women were better at reality
My sentence of stone was hard years
Where memories were crushed
Into a powder, the mark of many
Flowers thrust into dyes
My cries have made the long white nights
A spilled affair of burning right through
Belief, youth, and lofty deaths
Rebirth was the rustling heat of summer
Fresh, from the lonely walk to an empty home
My cries were poisonous heart-beats
Of the breast and beast in the worst of me
I personified something ridiculous and chilled
Something to fill my window with a festive tone
Of hope staring me straight in the eyes
From some momentous star that shone and fled.