I'd like to think that my soul wanders and that scars are the most beautiful things hidden with what's left in me.
"I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say let's evolve, let the chips fall where they may."
If it came about you died
it might be said I loved you:
love is an absolute as death is,
and neither bears false witness to the other—
But you remain alive.
No, I do not love you
hate the word,
that private tyranny inside a public sound,
your freedom’s yours and not my own:
but hold my separate madness like a sword,
and plunge it in your body all night long.
If death shall strip our bones of all but bones,
then here’s the flesh and flesh that’s drunken-sweet
as wine cups in deceptive lunar light:
reach up your hand and turn the moonlight off,
and maybe it was never there at all,
so never promise anything to me:
but reach across the darkness with your hand,
reach across the distance of tonight,
and touch the moving moment once again
before you fall asleep—