Is it a Surprise When Love is Dead?

To kiss you is
a dream
beyond reflected innuendo
simulacrum of skin
of vision beyond the surface of a hologram
beyond the stars
behind the eyes
thoughts that pile up in anxious masses
drivers on a freeway in cars that crash in the absolute
blackness of night
your absence
a nakedness of innocence
breathless
still
a desire that walks among the living quickly
before it's gone
petrified
a rejection
of rejection
the lips still and distant
desirous of the life inside the unknown recesses
of the other's daylight luminescence
adorned
by an empathetic touch and warmth
inimitable silkiness of moist air
fragrant fresh-washed hair
sounds of morning in the meadow fringed by forest
fringed by winged and wild things

Is it a Surprise When Love is Dead?

that sing
songs
that taste like kisses
behind closed eyes
in a springtime
of desire
consumed by an agonizing conflagration
every hiding place
burnt
and
laid bare
memory and awareness
holding hands in an armistice of despair
look there
where the distance is boundless
infinite
love
stirs
still
lingers
like ashes
exacting