You are reason and passion’s love child.

You are everything that is right about-

Everything that is wrong about me.

You are death’s soft kiss on my clavicle,

You are life’s reply to my inner tempest.

Your marrow warms my lonely bones,

Your blood cools my uncontrollable fear.

I fear the madness you invoke in me-

The bloody desire your hands provoke.

I should retreat into my own silences,
But like the irresistible sinful rustle of silk-
Your silences beckon me, giving me voice.

Even as the earliest birds
welcome the break of dawn
with their strangely plaintive songs,
your absence keeps me awake.
You are my dishonest truth
and my virtuous vice.
You are me.

Love lies limp and lifeless-
Like a lonesome, lowly, little
Ragdoll.

I listened, you heard.
All we really need
Are these silences.
Splendid
Talkative
Irrational
Silences.

I drew a deceitful little sketch of you.
I put your nose where your mouth should have been.
I just couldn't bear your perfection anymore,
My own private little pay back
As you remain totally unaffected.

I see your face-
In the darkest moonless sky
In the shadows that once scared me
In the power of life to leave me powerless
In the prayers that left my soul as silent screams
I see your face-
In my mirror.