of love


i know
that your face
shining like a fog
is nothing
but emptiness

that your hand
sliding down
past my navel
grabs a cock
which is shapeless

i accept
the vows
and promises
of love
in a universe
of decay

i know
my love
you are a flutter
in the vast chain of being
and i have kissed
the fleeting
mystery of a lip

i comprehend
our nudity
as a mirage
and that words
coil around us
like fumes of legend

like a sun and fate
share a millennium
of spontaneity

i know
your face
is but a passage
an instrument
for the invisible
to be formulated

let’s rub
the falsity of our skins
against the
improbability of our bliss




21st century poetry

the day we died

             There were so many things
left to do
the city had abrupt faces, ideals
our hands were eager with schemes
so full of intent and consequence
the flavors we would discover
some of the poetry entailed
but our hands were sealed
collapsing monuments on the bed
our bodies were already heavy
with the black of time,
we decided to end our lives
as naturally as a flow of music
our destiny was a quiet ending
alone in that dualism of self and terror
we would begin to fall
now sleeping towards
the arms of a nestling hiatus,
we began our descent
down the throat of nullity
certain that this abandoned world
was only a first dream
and that reality was fully awake
at the dawning clouds of death.

Nihilistic Poetry