Love Poem

Oh, prince, I cannot promise that my case

be prime and pure to win the doubting Thomas with a

delicate demure, but,

this I swear – when I have vowed, my heart

will never fail you! Alas, that, I may find you now to prove it

and to pray you.



I breathe through dew

a wailing sigh

a battered pretense that has

threatened to die

a shallow,

faint surrender

under cold stars

a falt’ring dream

received from my breast

breathed to life, frail green light

presented to

the cosmos.


I sacrifice

that thawing dream

once lost, once renewed

yet, too far to exist

that shard of

bleeding mem’ry

and, as I gaze,

the stars reel on

more bright than the metal

that bends in the desert

to shoot

across the darkness.

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