This love is going to kill me

This love is going to kill me,

Each remembered kiss a slice

to my heart, drawing rivers of words,

to exsanguinate on pages upon pages

of never-ending, ending.

Love bleeds like a sorrowful spring

and yet I keep defending, defending.

Tonight is a night to embrace the lover

to rattle our shells from our ocean's echo

and stir like soul winds wound

in contrapposto... An inhale cedes

In a sigh sweet staccato.

Within the offset sheets of folded rose skin

cured as parchment, pages to be opened

A torch cast shadows on the hearts wall

The rose is illuminated by and all

born from the light of creation.

Impregnated by dew, grape swells to a drop

to burst and roll down the blade

of the vintner's sword into the goblet

O tiny red ocean, O fermentation

release me now, the ransom is paid.

He said I've plucked many roses

from countless bushes

Placed them in fine crystal vases.

But you are a garden

and I, to die,

have been placed within you,

In placeless places.

This one catches flight on anothers breeze

so many cross winds to the sea

This one leather, that one caramel

to be brindle, to be softened

Kun faya koon, kun faya koon

Be, so it is to be.

Oh God, I hate this distance,

that keeps my mouth watering.

Watering for Thee.