What inexorable woe
     Is the lonely heart
     That weighs upon the lonely mind.

Worse still when affection's

I have banged my head
     Against that wall
     And now the noise
          Of my rattling
               Frazzled brain
               Would overpower
               The woe of the heart
               Though they sing in

This corpse of a burdened soul
Seeks the warmth of the sun
     Born and bathed in love.

But want and desire
                    So strong
     Have left me numb
          Dried and cracked
     As the Santa Ana's blow
     Parches all hope;
     And assaulted by longing
               Confused by the
               Scattered sky;
     Domed and empty.

But there is no sun
     And the stone wall
     And squalid corpse
     Left now desiccated
     Arcs where the sky should be.

Oh that this shell would crack,
     That the loneliness
     Would shatter 'neath
          The reflection

That the light would pour through
          The cracks
     Coating me in the
          Warm viscosity
     Of a broken yolk
     Bathing me in love
Freeing me
     From the stone shackles
The unrequited sandstorm
     Carved for itself.

Sometimes I thing I have forgotten how
     That the tepid residue
     Of the Last Great Love
          Is a false expectation
     Remembered brighter
Like a starving man
          And a broken plate
     Where the traces of breakfast
          Yet remain.

Have I stared too long?
     Is the afterimage too bright
     To see if the wall is gone?
Have I dodged the light
     Thinking it but an echo
          Of my screams
     Reverberating on the inside?

Or have I dried even further
     Turning that brittle enamel
          Into a marble tomb
     That glows only on the outside
     Reflecting away such love
          As would cook a better