a thyme
seasoned with
pain, and 
love,
and war,
and the laughter of the children.


every wanton moment,
pure,and beautiful
in its unpredictable allure.


life
sprung infinitely 
eternal.


until
it begins in earnest.

a ring
of
twisted agonies,
daisy
chained
into
gruesome delight.

wisdom
mascarading as pain.


and wrapped 
tight,
in a blanket of denial,
I step
into
the
unknown
to surrender to
the silent fury
of the night,
and bask in the salvation of my soul

steadily and
ungraceful,
we tumble
forward into this 
undeniable inevitability.



neither ready.

neither sure.

each hoping
for one night more.

stay
a
bit
longer,
and
tell
me
a tail.


I am
not
yet
ready
to
miss
you.

time runs
far ahead, to the beginning.
so,
I miss you already - though you
are right
here.

welcoming the impossible
home,
again.



it's 
what
we
do.


we magic men


earnest
effervescence
rising up
again,

and again.



until we fall,

ecstatic
again.

dreams dance
twixt sun and moon
twixt the raindrops
twixt me and you.


and
our laughter,
carries whispers of
tomorrow.

seeking
without seeking.

lost
in the absolute.

securely
free falling

into this blossoming,

with you.

just be.