With dust-the dryness comes easily
heart of my Heart,
darkness of Light
and miles of miles, my lungs they ache.
the austere and terrible oceans
the weeping of my lost lovely mist.
And death stares back from the desert
with camouflage eyes and promises
of sleep and immortality.
to sleep and not to dream again
what you and He—
hands held tightly, white knuckles
on a pew. Atheism raging without a word—
have always wanted.
These vast empty deserts,
they pulse and they moan
They scream with silent mouths,
such women's work to stifle the masses,
"You don't exist!"
with love such things are inferred,
to uplift with no thought of the sere
to uplift—to simper and sigh.
And to not perish
To never die.