what is left
but wistful words
wasted wants
and willful wallow
…allow me to reiterate;
lavish me
with love
for life
along the leafy sea
of dragons
pour your heart
into mine
as we pore over this rose dramatis
never let us falter
into cold complacent
static statues
…sadly…
there is irony
within these words
if one has ever heard
a heartbeat…
held a hope
that fell
into that old vacant abyss
inside…
the one that wants to rob the morrow
hobble us
with sorrow’s sword
if my tears could turn toward
the bleakest sky
would I then follow…
only
if you took my hand
and told me
who I am
Max, or Not 