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Alone and afraid and Against all Odds we attested to Our awful phobias. At an audience of Weak applause We boldly bested our Belittled Bravery by the burnt Boistering Bang of our battle cries Calling out Into the crystal night. Cold as a Cave and darker than our Decembers We make delightful love. Dear love and Delicious love, daring Dangerous Love, you and I, two best Eccentrities That everyone else Had failed to Extract from our ever Falling force. Failure threatening our Forts and fear Facing us up front, our Two faces Became one gorgeous and Glittering Glistening great home of Heavenly Light and heathenly fire; Our horrid Hearts becoming jewels Again, those Jewels filled with joy and Jumping for The unjustified fears That had killed And casted away all Crumbles of Remaining innocence And shreds of Our illumination. But love, love, Love, love, love, love, love, love. Love laid down With the little laughs we Had shared that Lucid and lovely night. Love was late, But she laid down with her Lost children. That late night the man of Miracles, Who meant nothing much Malicious But meant only to move The minds of Those in mourning, laid with The woman Of those never-ending Nightmares, the Girl whose nocturnal hours Encountered Nothing but near deaths and Nights that she Needed desperately To delete. The woman of never- Ending night- Mares opened herself up To the man Of miracles, opened Her ocean Of oracular thoughts And her flesh To his outstretched arms so Opulent. She opened herself like A tiny Telescope and the man Began to Peer particularlu Into the Pinwheel galaxies of Her precious Soul, questioning the so Curious State of the qualms within The quilted Waves of her heart. It was the Most restless, reckless night, As we ran From reason and rightly Rejected Our rotting pasts, raising Our bodies Face first out of the ruts So rancid That we had run into We stepped out Away from the sour ruts And into The starlit sky, simply Hand holding In silence, the very Kind of quiet So spectacular, since Peace is here. Underneath the entire Universe The ever unlucky Underdogs Become one completely Renewed force Their unclean souls unwind, Violent Needs and fear venting in The very Violet sunrise: Our Morning has Come, we're ready to start. Wearily Waiting for the wayward Day to come, My own miracle man And I walk To the hood of my worn Out car, here We are, wanting nothing More but to Wage a war for the case Of our new Waking love we've found. We yearn for Nothing more than release Of our old Yesterdays, and to wait eagerly For the days yet to come, Young lovers Zipping up each other's Clothing and Gazing at the flashing Lights zooming Through that violet sky At our home.