Valentin's Day

I stand alone, and as the one before
This dark and grey desolate shore,
To see Scorpio's finger escape her garb
And weave her heaven with her barb;
Between those fingers I try to sleep,
While I swear and while I weep.

Within that time that I can not grasp,
Or escaped from her finger's clasp,
All that I am, and all that I've been
Is but an emotion within a celestial dream;
And in this divorce of heaven and hell
All that there is, and all that there seems
Lacks all emotions, and lacks all dreams.

About the poet/painter