There is nothing left here but this, in the vacuum of you.

I am haunted by the ghost of you.

Not so much you as much as the memory of you: the idea that was you.

As with all things that were good and worth having, worth cherishing; it’s the little things about you that I miss.

A hand sweeps across the mirror, clearing the dense mist that has settled over it – a mist of steam and perjured guilt: mine. Brown eyes mirror themselves in a pooled reflection and then trail upward.

I watch the reflection of my fingers rest on the base of my neck observing their steady for

(If)

you would draw your finger;

a conspiracy of index and wrist

the heathen black would be insult to your own.

Then let us dive, deep

Into the arms of an ocean in slumber,

Deprived and derailed, marked in numbers,

As the bells chime and the waves splash,

To mark a dire occasion and a dash

The winds circle above and howl,

As the hearse goes round and round,

Worshipping this sullen ground,

Stuc

Silently I judge thee irony in that black void,

a heart that dares not speak,

a love that dares to defy,

the simplest pleasures of a boy.

Nothing can compare to the silence

that speaks to him tonight.

In his solitude lies the darkest sin.

Those who dared enter Heaven’s gates &n

We walk in silence, not touching. I can hear you breathing - each tense intake and slow release - through the hushed noise of the snowflakes as they hit the ground. If you listen closely it’s as if there is a never-ending sigh in the air. I want to share this with you. But old habits die har

Ring a ring o’ rosies!

‘The Virgin looks beautiful’ he speaks, softly caressing his thigh.

I do not know whether he talks of me or the figure set in stone.

‘The light falls on her, poetically, bathing her in radiance.’

And though he speaks of purity I im

The fingers collide,

as the divisions arise,

a marked decline in our

sullen, morose

mortality

You are but a whisper,

on this deceased ocean of sand,

as sand dunes thrust

and calmly blind,

our very

eyes

On a night

as starless

and empty as this

I pray it is not the last

time

I see the moon

adorn your face

the way it does

and give your tears

a slivery sheen

so utterly divine

You scare me

Forcing me to relive the hurt.

Stripping away the indifference

Effortlessly

like an unbuttoned blouse

My body betrays me.

Even when he was sane

He wasn't very intelligent.

Madness, he was confident,

Would be an intelligent move.

Why fancy a purpose

When it's mere survival?

Why play sane

To a gallery full of

Ravening savages?

Why appear alive

Vaunt a use