in isolation my heart squeezed out a few words about how the experience felt, as it related to a perfect hurricane of fact & fiction. the first & last words, the alpha & omega, i will now share:

A:
to free the sun (the secret of our love)

frozen immaculate sun
an inertia of time & distance
as lonely cold as frightened steel
and the empty silence of my bare feet crouching
on naked concrete floors
where every terrified & falsely accused thought
is being shamefully forced to hear
from faraway & far too closely
as the most beloved notes of fretless sound
get secretly lost & sacredly drowned
in a foreign ocean built on stagnant soil
dirtied by the stains of my childish make-believe dreams
and other significant things
as the curious dawn is freely seen
in a welcomed explosion of daylight
yet i can barely see its reflection shine in
void from the outside
with my imprisoned mind
shackled under fluorescent clouds
and the only sound i want to hear, my darling beautiful
is the perfection of your footsteps
coming to free me now
so please, i beg you!
let me see the amazement of your secret light
i want to be your broken valentine
i want to hold the sun clearly in my arms
and cleanse this thunderstorm of tears from the back of my eyes

Z:
on the opposite side of seclusion

the fragmented sun
in flesh-toned fragrance
permeates like a whisper
through cemented wishing walls
casting soft shadows
of stainless ghostwritten palms
where i’m the misinterpreted stranger
tiptoeing on paper-clipped airplane flights
catching a moments glimpse of your gently refracted light
with each first breath suspended in a frantic midnight dream
being stood up perfectly still on a chained & handcuffed shoreline
just an innocent squint toward your winking dove-green eyes
heard performing in their sweetest serenade of feather calm waves
crashing off the backdrop of my screaming patience
fully convinced this shipwrecked isolation
must be more than a mere case of crazy coincidence
when i feel the tenderness of your postmarked kisses
carried across the unthawed wind
and the way it makes paper leaves flutter
enveloped by the first clear days of spring
openly waving their newfound affection
with careful poetic hands
in a discreetly untamed mystery
of twin-engine minds rehearsing the same part
of the exact sane thing
simultaneously becoming
all we want to know
the significance of it flies upright
soul to mended soul

Get up, my dear friend, fair and beautiful lover—come to me!
Look around you: Winter is over; the winter rains are over, gone!
Spring flowers are in blossom all over. The whole world’s a choir—and singing!
Spring warblers are filling the forest with sweet arpeggios. Lilacs are exuberantly purple and perfumed, and cherry trees fragrant with blossoms.
Oh, get up, dear friend, my fair and beautiful lover—come to me!
Come, my shy and modest dove—leave your seclusion, come out in the open.
Let me see your face, let me hear your voice. For your voice is soothing and your face is ravishing.

Song of Solomon 2:11-14 (The Message)

to have & to hold the sun

i shell you

la union of waves

april showers bloom blue mayflowers — a beautiful melancholy

beyond the shadow of all doubt lies the illumination of authentic LOVE

sunset trees (day 36 of spring)

water on sand—a living painting

painted keys — music is like painting the air with emotional breaths of life