If inspiration demands reconciliation
I submit myself before its measured judgment.
With desperation I search for a reason
that it would bestow upon me the fickle
allowance of fated Love above all others.
And I taste the tangible jealousy of them,
those whose gaze suggests abandonment,
while my tranquility spills into the world

You are my breath, my soul, my dreams of life
in another place, outside the willful challenge
of identities and responsibilities and modernity.
Where my path diverges from the straightened
familiarity of convention, I find in you the strength
to demand of desperation a respite from its dissuasion.
I move forward through the flames of distraction
touched only by their wispy tails, an afterthought.

To the end of eternal movement, my heart meanders
through a garden of forking paths, finding in each
turn, each choice, the beckoning of your temptation
and your desire, and I listen without thought
drawn forward into the unknowable darkness
lit by the guiding triad of hope, desire and love.
You are what you are to me, the pinnacle of who I am
and all that I want in life, love and eternal existence.