i held you in my eyes of twine
heavy lidded, in heaven’s fallout
at the garden of impressioned impetus
were petals adrift of quelling aquarelle
destined for reveries resting on bezel
should rays of radiance concord
as does every elegy effuse essence
come astral flights of wastrel mien
crestfallen cries affecting acrimony
as chemicals crude, and ghost collide
solace sought in trails of tined stinging
when souls embark to hearken home
a breathless whisper winces wistfully
e’er stilled by stay of loss allayed
Max, or Not 