The Parted Love Song - Collaboration

In the meadows of heaven I wait for redemption
for something to steal my breath and take away
those sins that I didn't believe in but still they made me lose everything
-- even you.
Your soft hair and blue eyes transfix my heart
so close like a sibling in spirit
I swear we could squish together to create the dream
maybe we could intertwine to become trees
entangled in spirit and fluids that rejuvenate my heart
and stain the unwashed sheets where I lie on cold Sunday afternoons
the radio making alpha-waves of my thoughts, putting the cold collar
of order on the soup-pot of my overcooked mind,
Leaving an impenetrable skein of cooled cream, unable to be cracked with a fork.
The science of cooking -- numbered countdown the moment
of truth -- there are no rules in cooking, the math and science
of careful ordered steps, falling onto each other's full bellies
as God fell on the Egyptian chariots and stars fall and fall
into the depths of how I languish in joy
and for how torn I am, taken away from our interlocking branches of heavenly sorrow
for every purpose -- to strengthen the bark of the skin
I am almost certain life exists, allow me to dance for her, Nefertiti,
a pharoahess behest to the descent of madness, into the heiroglyphs,
an alphabet written in the stone of our sexual lie, the
corpus prone on cold tile, arms crossed in a weird X shapes,
some scent of incense there, too.
Casting opiate to the wind, a dream of sex standing up now just wafting away
"where" to what they like, where like the word "breakfast"
whenever you didn't say what I heard out loud
the moment of plastic bottle bands breaking down.