As much as I would
fly to you,
you must arc to me
on gilded wing
Category: Poetry
For dancing in
We are wedded with tragedy
Like a night flight
Shrouded with nervous attendants.
Sparrows fall from trees
Establishment
A dream of damaged men,
who carry themselves
(and worthy causes)
like piles of shattered flint
in ungloved hands.
Turning and burning
If you are
laid low
by brute facts
split on Apex and Flame