My aloneTo be alone in a cascading worldMy alone
Of kind words and gentle looks
Like the kisses of wormwood
The steady mind spins
The blood pulses heavy
A sapling uprooted will never grow
Torn roots are all the better when death is imminent
Kindness, torment, love, vicious, biting screaming
Its all the same when the axe strikes red
The mask of favorable company
A smile so bright like some false sun
And word in confidence are needles when they score gold
And impure poison taints the lode
The ScorpionI share my bed with a scorpion,The Scorpion
Lovers truly, who could doubt our close-knit togetherness.
Like a bull and its whip, who could separate us?
Like a laborer and his toil who could make us quit?
But our bed shares yet another— A shadow in perfect eye-dazzling crystal clarity for both of us,
Realer than real, our bed is made the shadow.
But in community, the shadow is nothing,
Though both secretly long for its flaxen touch,
As we hold each other so tight, so tightly in our burning bed.
The scorpion, my lover lively, stabs the shadow,
The tail embedded in the
--
You look funny.
Har-har.
|:
--
You look funny.
Har-har.
|:
--
You look funny.
Har-har.
|:
--
I firmly believe that the novel "Inquilibrium: Behind the Curtain of Life" I'm writing for 4 years now is going to be one of the most life-transforming, hope-giving, insight-bearing book you'll ever read. All I ask of you is to remember me and its title.
Previous PageNext Page