The loftiness of thy
incessant ascension?
A trophied divinity:
steel pinions founded upon
titled transparency,
January’s crucible crucifixion beach about the
pale-trimmed temple of trampled green;
Calvary orange-paved in
rivets of absolution.
Thy Winter renaissance?
A benevolent validation:
an Autumn of discontent made
retrospectively glorious - a
zealous derivation of existence
confirmed in blood.
Personalized
martyrdom.
resurrection.

You were the
unspoken measurement, the
yardstick - my
paper giraffe upon the bedroom door.
The sight -
your torturous questing abroad -
has tempered the
use of my stance against
despondency.
You have fallen.
I have tasted the lips of hell.
Let us take each other from the hard earth.
You shall climb that orange-girdered mountain
and I
must follow or be [...]

it seems that i am rowing,
the fluidity in my arms
timed
by an unheard signature which
of late
has underscored my
breathing;
this grasping at
fading incidentals
momentarily clutched by
fingertips raw
leaves me
continually riven by the
pounding of time.