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i witness the birth of the moon and her servants walking the night sky pulling us into their wake

A.P. Sweet
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the heavens raped from our misuse of love
A.P. Sweet
We learn that all life is scarce yet abundant. Profane yet sacred. Loving yet hateful. Enlightened yet obscured. Isolated yet collective. That life is somehow derived from love.
A.P. Sweet
The moon makes love to the ocean and in this holy conception it gives birth to a little tide.
A.P. Sweet
I spread my fingers outward, letting the knife tip of my middle finger rip the sky as it tares a rift in the moon.
A.P. Sweet
I would give my lungs to the fish so that they may rise out of the water and feel the wind.
A.P. Sweet
shall we dance into the perpetual torture of our union once more?
A.P. Sweet
I cry as the laughter inside me drowns and descends into the water with the ghosts of our union.
A.P. Sweet
My thoughts are with you all. Forever conscious of the vast, absurd universe and writing my eternal story I shall remain dead, but dreaming.
A.P. Sweet
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