"In human affairs of delicacy..."

I'm letting Disaster alone for a time.
Perchance I'll return for Him someday, but my soul is far too alive to live in His air today.
My Heart is far too full to believe He has a place in Her today.
Yes, I will allow a certain kind of sorrowfull reminiscence on the woman I have lost, but she must lay -with a shallow pulse, on the bed of yesterday I have made for her.
I will dance in glory above her. I will walk in splendour around her.
She will receive my stare, with lust for more. She will call for my touch, but no longer will I lay next to her, no longer will I fuel her breathing with breath from my own lungs.
I'm letting Disaster alone for a time./


We had our beginnings:
Lustrous, in caves.
We had Creation:
It's lips parted for our remains.

We are unique.
We are old aged, and out of fashion.
We are antique.
We are of worth, and in collection.

We are in motion, and out of focus.
We are in sound, and out of range.
We are full and we are cracked.
We are in glory and considered strange.

We are their secrets.
We are their fables.
We gave birth to every syllable, death to every retired page.

You and I are in clear sound.
You and I are painted pure.
You and I are in full motion.
You and I have every cure.

We have no end.