You will never know
Paradise...
Purple was there first
in the thudding darkness...
I've built sculptures
out of daydreams...
Dear Sir, (or is it Madam?),
You don't know me from Charlie Adam...
As much as I want
to run away from you...
She baptized me in a rain of sweat
and preemptive kisses...
Ravens drift to sunshine
like a taboo superstition upon...
Your breath is an itch on a missing limb that
I sleep next to every night...
Sleep, is all I want
My eyes burn from the lost rest...
Slowly, silently and steadily I walk.
No sound assaults my ears, no necessity to talk...
Periwinkle skies, we've met again;
over my poetry-filled ancient garden...
When words like warm blood smoothly flow
Within the insides of poetic frame...