Are we like candles
flames are our dreams
like the sound of a lit match
dipped in water
perhaps that is love...

Diseased with love
disconsolate with shades of bile
the dream of death in daylight
shoveling to survive
I said, "I love you"
you said, "I love you too"
it was nausea
then we wandered into different rooms..

You were the pale blue sky
milking the moonless night
I was the crow virus
fettered by rain...

Pure genetic providence
intellectual procedure
amalgamation of predisposed chromosomes
thrown into existence
with the ambiguity of Kierkegaard...

Some call it happily ever after...