Because I do not know you yet,
mine animal of the hurt, mine
minion and dominion, consecration
and domination, because I still wish
to submit to only concepts and you
are my concept, my present, my gift
from other selves, probably past selves,
to my karmic today, because I do not
wish to die without knowing you, my
future friend, my reality potion, my
prescription for pain (pain), because
I wish to be commanded by the comma,
the spaces between pleasures, because
I am an eye made of molecules without
geology and filled with topography. May
we meet in this life, on the chessboard,
and may your rooks become my kind
of king.
Roman Ryan 