Sea Legs

I gazed as your saliferous hair

slapped upon the sunset rocks

of a sangria sea.

From out of the mist 

my searchlight came

seeking your signal

to close in on the cooling evening.

Yet the waters are too rough,

I am dehydrated

and I have lost my sea legs.

Upkeep

There's a higher thing

in hyacinths

sprinkled on the lawn.

They remind me of

my love for you;

how it threatened to be overgrown.

How the upkeep would

distress the neighbourhood

if not picked and pruned.

Yet my blistered hands

can no longer stand

to aggravate the wound.

A Terrible Death

I fear not

how it would feel to die

but to lack feeling,

yet I'm self aware

that I'm terribly self aware

and so terrible.

Escaping my Sepulchre

Removing the boulder of your body,

I escaped my sepulchre sequestered,

solivagant against the subterfuge

and the sins and ill will that had festered.

Renascent against the apostasy

in animus that made me ascetic,

I cursed not the boulder that had held me

but rather found forgiveness analgetic.

And such reflections found me less reticent;

regret receded with ruminations

'til I found the ataraxic axiom;

I was thankful for your testing creations

This realisation rendered me removed

from a sorry world that had never improved.

Shower

A jet of afflatus

in my epicurean contemplation of life

as I compose poetry in the shower,

trying to get the perfect balance

of hot and cold,

my fingers webbing from staying in

one spot for too long.

My memory of the words

is swept away in lachryform beads

by the coarse towel's kiss;

grating against horripilated and

humbled flesh,

lost forever with those ephemeral easing

moments of enlightenment.