neonsunshine :: the avenue of discord

the days pass
the days go
sun in,
rain out.

alone—
the cold comes,
the cold goes.

together—
comforting warmth embraces all,
the smell of skin,
of hair,
and the gentle touch of your neck—
the two tiny moles,
beckoning a kiss—
a touch of love, of warmth.

it is you—
and i want no other,
your golden eyes that see
that which cannot be seen,
empathy inordinate,
a furnace from a candlewick.

the twists and turns
we walk together,
seven hundred and thirty count,
the best days of my life—
with you,
and only you.

charred paper by candlelight
sit, and wonder
where does the flame reside?
where does it come from?

kindle the blaze
the heat that heals
and draws from within
to adorn the outside
with the black of night

it must be fueled,
it must!
for the flame is you
the flame is I,
it is all of us

it returns, it returns
two worlds bound together
strings of charcoal hue
a mind vacant, yet alive
you press forward—
but the tears need to come.

why speculate?
why reason, there is no cause
it is but a life bond
an aspect beyond control
even in the depths of dreams subliminate
you wake, and live on.

the mind wanders without escort
to places you’ve already been
on the back of waves
that surf among the air.

you evoke memory
hesitation steps beside you
why?
it is you, and you are it
but you are you,
and your memories are then—
this is now.

what is then cannot be touched
it is gone, pulled from being
a silhouette of intention
of object, of cause.

depth which cannot be seen
the ocean speak for us all
that which is deeper—
lies beauty indeterminate.

it’s been a long day, it’s been a long day
the sun lies high in the sky
candlewick behind the mountains of blue
a pond of cerulean hue high above
still as ice

the world races past
our hands as one
keys to the most perfect lock
the undisturbed, the fruitful
the serene

black strands brush my cheeks
eyes of earth-gold—
life so deep,
so warm,
so complete

a smile that shifts time
impossibly still,
yet so beautifully filled—
utterly, totally, completely.

another like it does not exist,
no, it cannot have-
perfection is not rivaled twice.

the sun sets
as sure as it is to rise
another day begins,
as we chronicle us,
our fortune, our everything 

and yet i hold it tight
as we hold it tight,
a clench—
and i want no other.

only this—
only you. 

a peal among skies of grey
the herald shouts; they cry
reverence of death wrought from nothing
the wastrel, two-pronged in thought and being.

our problems are solved now
a people split asunder
the death of one calls the minds of many
to what end?
to naught, oblivion and here to come.

lapse and celebrate
the picture is always the same
the sun never sets—
as the world burns itself to cinders
under the radiance of glory

and peace yet to be found.

yet the boundless cry in anguish
sanguine tears stain the bind together
the books that read the world
hear not the suffering abound

islands flock in mindful sanctuary
they listen
and weep

the air falls unto ice
some say the light no longer shines there
all upon the books
with regard since departed

skins of avarice and pestilence
become all that ever was
to the surprise of none

after all,

the green eyes are always watching, aren’t they?

it weaves as it wills
the dawn stars are its envelope
the dusk lights are the seal

a wandering note
she places beneath your feet
bequeath a mote of time since departed
a feeling
wrought heavy in hesitation
basking in the midnight skies

soundless cries does it wail
anthem and dirge in one
to expose the entangled
as if it were knots in a sail

trepidation awaits its coming
wistfulness, no.. relief adorns its wake

a solemn smile and a promise for tomorrow
has a farewell ever been so ambivalent?