time sails on with callous certainty
and leaves me mourning in its wake
all the golden futures that i'd dreamed
and my most beautiful mistake

sickly ironic that sonnets spring forth
unforgivably from my treacherous heart
ghost of my love, depart! Depart.

I don't exactly wish that I was dead--
But do admit I'd much prefer to dwell
In somewhere lost and lonely as my thoughts
Perhaps deep in the bottom of a well...

My tears all lost within the gen'ral damp,
Where nothing could remind me of regret.
To be away from all, and all forget--
My dearest wish, Oh darling, oubliette.

I'd guess that this was your intention, too.
It's easier for you to leave me there,
Forsake me to the quick obscuring gloom,
Than to remember kissing golden hair...

Remembrance belongs not within this breach--
Enough. Let us be lost then, each to each.

On the Day. And someday.

these lonely nights pass by in faithful hours
progressing steadily into the dawn
if your heart could be as faithful as the night
the hours would not seem so very long

the ticking mocks the hollow in my chest
which beats along (although reluctantly)
for while my world in pieces seems to lie-
my heart, though broken, still insisting: Be!

the minutes pass, no mercy in that face
But pass they do, a simple sort of balm
that does not make the fever quit its place
but heals instead with slow and steady calm

So time will teach me not to have regrets
The sun will rise, and myself with it. Strong.

Food in the Land of the Dead

Gloom lit the bloodred brightness
With a sanguinary hunger—the life left behind
Glistened in jealous darkness

Touched lips wet with red wetness
Which perhaps ah – knew better
But could not stop. Life lingered in the rushes

Paused.
Did not return.

Looking back so fatal (and so human!)
Dissolves me into water, into salt.

How cold the world
where love is expediency
where power is truth


no balance
no reckoning
no number to the stars


But when he speaks the lines he believes them-- a moment rare and glowing. Hope?


the curtain falls.