Quasar Molten, Passing Into Love

I wanted to protect
your veins as you lived

They became muddled
and pooled in blood
before me

After the days, the years
I felt them in science

the velocity of gravity
met me in sunshine

it bathed me grandiosely
turned from outer space

and I knew your heart
bleeding there in your


My Love In Snow White’s Moral

I loved you and then the day was gone.

Silence by the woods.

In the interior where the dwarfs lived

and the path led off into the shadows.

The shadows stood clear amongst blue sky
and woodland groves
so crisp that these aesthetics were
the only way to know consciousness.

From the valley you could see the mountains.

Aesthetics of your hips, the soft skin.
Your smell, a milk maid from the Alps.
Those hard and shiny nails
and of course your lips that dripped tangerines
behind the sunshine in the winter
when I took you into the house, by the hearth
to learn you

and then learning the story of the cosmos
from the apples collected in daily ritual.

“The Stars Of This Poem”

Not with the soft hands
that leave me
these are made of desert sand
a different house
a house of hours
underneath the configurable stars
turns the clock from orange to red
some new technology runs
on board a space ship
so a new time is born
one that is free from revolutions

In a cave
below a chalky canyon
I believe in you
for your precious script of DNA
your chestnut brown hair
the journey of your lips

my bones turn to dust

they kiss their galactic sojourn

They are the stars of this poem