My Sphinx

For mourning two today, three tonite. Where lies the cusp of death but within the burning night….

Sonnets for Dancer XXXIII

How you were, How we might, the sooner it starts, the later the night when that appregio descends,…

One blinding bliss, one holy shroud, two binding prudent vows, we understand our other as knowledge does…

My dearest moment, still yet holding on air since ears seek wisdom and eyes, stairs spiraling upward…

Should my heart no longer throb, our breathing still, your being long for echoes gone, the thoughts…

To count all these inches as they come tumbling down from miles above to the new spoken…

It’s rare to light this late at night our burning casual evening rhyme encased in the walls…

Smoothing glissades sweep away the days of bursting periwinkle kaleidoscopically sealing a brain of unfettered frays into…

I have always depended on the shyness of dangers to obscure moments of heavy-handed beleaguering of heavy-hearted…

A princess, you, may be an offer to a prince since kisses due lay kings’ hands wrung…