Kun Fa’yakun

This love is going to kill me,
Each remembered kiss a slice
to my heart, drawing rivers of words,
to exsanguinate on pages upon pages
of never-ending, ending.
Love bleeds like a sorrowful spring
and yet I keep defending, defending.

Tonight is a night to embrace the lover
to rattle our shells from our ocean’s echo
and stir like soul winds wound
in contrapposto… An inhale cedes
In a sigh sweet staccato.

Within the offset sheets of folded rose skin
cured as parchment, pages to be opened
A torch casts shadows on the hearts wall
The rose is illuminated by and all
born from the light of creation.

Impregnated by dew, grape swells to a drop
to burst and roll down the blade
of the vintner’s sword into the goblet
O tiny red ocean, O fermentation
release me now, the ransom is paid.

He said I’ve plucked many roses
from countless bushes
Placed them in fine crystal vases.
But you are a garden
and I, to die,
have been placed within you,
In placeless places.

This one catches flight on anothers breeze
so many cross winds to the sea
This one leather, that one caramel
to be brindle, to be softened
Kun fa’yakun, kun fa’yakun
Be, so it is to be.

Oh God, I hate this distance,
that keeps my mouth watering.
Watering for Thee.