His Judas Kiss

Let it be done with,
the unraveling ended,
his Judas kiss
no longer wet on my cheek.
Recover it - my heart - from
the wreckage, that I may
forget his touch
and unlive the days spent
loving. Those
days are lost.

Will I yet live again
new in resurrection
the cynicism gone
from my breast?
Uproot my heart, revive it,
from the man who unjustly
housed it. Let it be
quick, our closing,
let it be now, in this breath.

No longer the lamb
dead in the
jaws of the lion.

We Are One No Longer

It has begun,
the declination of one -
the rapid descent into two
and there was no warning,
no decent admonition
no alarm of our unity's decay.

My lilies have hung their heads.
They once bloomed for us
sprung forth of deep, rich earth.
Would they not wait with me,
and yet the premature wilting
has made its claim,
and my lilies have hung their heads.

Our sun has set,
and tomorrow it will not be rising.
Night has come with an
abiding grip on the heavens,
and even stars that burned for us
are no longer burning.
Our lights have diminished.
Our sky has blackened.
Our sun will not be rising.

And what of our flesh,
the bone of our bones,
the fruit of our joining?
What of our roots and their
intertwining?
What of our days spent laughing
and our quiet moments
embracing?

Hide them up,
uproot them from within my being,
tell me they were not.
For my love is gone,
I have lost him.
We are one no longer,
and two
is the loneliest number.