Alone and afraid and
Against all
Odds we attested to
Our awful phobias.

At an audience of
Weak applause
We boldly bested our
Belittled
Bravery by the burnt
Boistering
Bang of our battle cries
Calling out
Into the crystal night.

Cold as a
Cave and darker than our
Decembers
We make delightful love.

Dear love and
Delicious love, daring
Dangerous
Love, you and I, two best
Eccentrities
That everyone else
Had failed to
Extract from our ever
Falling force.

Failure threatening our
Forts and fear
Facing us up front, our
Two faces
Became one gorgeous and
Glittering
Glistening great home of
Heavenly
Light and heathenly fire;
Our horrid
Hearts becoming jewels
Again, those
Jewels filled with joy and
Jumping for
The unjustified fears
That had killed
And casted away all
Crumbles of
Remaining innocence
And shreds of
Our illumination.

But love, love,
Love, love, love, love, love, love.

Love laid down
With the little laughs we
Had shared that
Lucid and lovely night.

Love was late,
But she laid down with her
Lost children.

That late night the man of
Miracles,
Who meant nothing much
Malicious
But meant only to move
The minds of
Those in mourning, laid with
The woman
Of those never-ending
Nightmares, the
Girl whose nocturnal hours
Encountered
Nothing but near deaths and
Nights that she
Needed desperately
To delete.

The woman of never-
Ending night-
Mares opened herself up
To the man
Of miracles, opened
Her ocean
Of oracular thoughts
And her flesh
To his outstretched arms so
Opulent.

She opened herself like
A tiny
Telescope and the man
Began to
Peer particularlu
Into the
Pinwheel galaxies of
Her precious
Soul, questioning the so
Curious
State of the qualms within
The quilted
Waves of her heart.

It was the
Most restless, reckless night,
As we ran
From reason and rightly
Rejected
Our rotting pasts, raising
Our bodies
Face first out of the ruts
So rancid
That we had run into

We stepped out
Away from the sour ruts
And into
The starlit sky, simply
Hand holding
In silence, the very
Kind of quiet
So spectacular, since
Peace is here.

Underneath the entire
Universe
The ever unlucky
Underdogs
Become one completely
Renewed force
Their unclean souls unwind,
Violent
Needs and fear venting in
The very
Violet sunrise: Our
Morning has
Come, we're ready to start.

Wearily
Waiting for the wayward
Day to come,
My own miracle man
And I walk
To the hood of my worn
Out car, here
We are, wanting nothing
More but to
Wage a war for the case
Of our new
Waking love we've found.

We yearn for
Nothing more than release
Of our old
Yesterdays, and to wait eagerly
For the days yet to come,
Young lovers
Zipping up each other's
Clothing and
Gazing at the flashing
Lights zooming
Through that violet sky
At our home.