Blooming

That intricate seed of embers ye ears have not seen as they remain mysteries.

Begins; like a sweet sap oozing as foreign tears down a weeping tree.

And - with some ginger sympathy lying within the science of liquid and light - an opening creeps apart and a champion is born.

It's heart pounds; and the art of you as the idea parades.

Petals arouse you and starlight is held within your palms.

Work is final as destiny sees fit.

And forever is as forever does…forever.

Hopeless Romance

Is the scent of the ruling flower unsanctified?

Do falling stars and our hearts' deepest rivers no longer hail?

Am I to believe throughout all of my destiny that my heart's desire is a desolate cave of skeletons?

I see the sun set on my horizon and clutch to my own brokenness that a flicka is all I need…again.