now:
how bright those moments gleamed,
each instant
a rapture, the fulfilment of a dream
yet unblighted, undiminished,
string them into
bright lines of light:
illumine the room with these moments
of loving, your perfection, accomplished:
now,
dead, these moments flicker,
they struggle, the struggle
of light tugging out of wave, out particle
your light, dead now. God damn AIDS��
I hate to think what state your love is now,
I cannot bear to looked at your moments, burned
out, now
succeeding now��: oh�� but how perfectly
you loved�� and how perfect
once, your masterpiece:
a string of lights cross time from you to me,
reminding every lost moment how instantly we're seized.
the Funny Show
agriculture poem
my life in the ghost of Bush
time-lapsed (part 1)
unreconciled
Images are taken without permission from the fine and trusting folks at Folk Arts of Poland; please purchase something from them. Background music stolen without permission from Epitonic, Basta Music, and just about everywhere else my unscrupulous hands could grab something. No rights reserved.
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