a million pyres
embrace fire

as myriad members
declare sovereignty
and cement the fate
of my body

they build ramparts
around divided life

monuments of high taste
true symbols of strength

master pieces of Death.

Absent

You are present
in your absence. But
were you present
in your presence?

I stood behind a curtain
of anger.
Naked.

Anger? Anguish?

You were free to choose.

You were wanted.

Your presence required
your absence.
My presence required
my presence.

You are the wind
that makes my breath.

Impossible love
is but made of love.

Indifferent
Now the wind fans me
out of pity.

When did my breath
change into Wind?

When did you grow
your own lungs?