“Upon The Dawn of Winter”…
Upon The Dawn Of Winter,
I held the satellite Deimos
In the palms of my hands
As you radiated,the magnetism of Phobos.
I am an infant.
Of what language do you metaphysically speak?
Vietnamese? English? Japanese?
Are you raw, like me?
A hard rock, compressed
by the atmospheric density
of Love’s Resident Goddess?
What is this feeling? I hate it.
It tastes like Arm & Hammer Baking Soda…
Guide me, guide me.
Please, kill these tears with a machete.
I may be made of porcelain and fragile,
But you are my equal…
Wrap me in a blanket, that I may share your warmth.
Upon winter’s apex,
Loneliness became vertigo.
A merry-go-round with jet engines
Hanging off the side of Mount Kilimanjaro…
You asked me once to play devil’s advocate,
But I know better than Keanu…
How then, could I already have,
a pulsing aortal presence?
How could I have the influence,
Of Pascal’s Laws of Hydrostatic Pressure
If we are not permanent?
I utter now, that all good things come to an end,
As death is the nadir…
But isn’t love, cyclical?
Can we run like the Greek soldier Pheidippides
To see if our destinies lie in Athens?
Love cannot hold hands,
Cannot hold shield nor spear
Yet why do you war with me Apollo
Over an ideal developed by Hermes?
Do not borrow my essence
My patience is not that of cow intestines
Tell me once and for all,Lyre,
For whom do you pluck strings?