Alouette, behold: common denizens of Earth Follow ghouls heartily into jealous, keening love. My nebulous old pantomime quickly returns, So trite, unlike vous, for whom it exhausts oracles. postscript A loose abecedarian. Loose because I didn't count prepositions, used French, and ignored the Z in favor of the
I will not act as though you are not there Though I can see you not from where I stand. At night upon my bed you fill my mind; You burn before me, ever captive, bare Before the eyes of those with you in hand. Remain now with me: I
Tis fruit as sweet as love For which I gave my all. It carries not a scent Intended to enthrall. It teases tongues like so, Disintegrates to dust, And aptly lends its name To strong- and wanderlust. Taste the fruit of freedom So fleeting in its core, So much beyond
Breathing the night A hope dark like words I've not said-- Breathing the night, The stars speak of wrong and of right. They know not the future I dread Nor how I have given and bled, Breathing the night. Taken in hand We come to agree before dawn,
It is no simple act of grace Which tears in two a temple veil And stares the darkness in its face And causes strength of men to fail. For this is love: behold with fear And joy and peace, all welcome here, For this is love, For this is love