Aaron Barth-Martinson

What moves the pen; the breath, the mind?
A soothing jest by friends in time?
A death- a Love that's flown on Faith?
That Hope, misplaced by wretched men;
...

How many times have we humans died?
Has the hoarfrost enveloped our only world?
Have we had to evolve for self indulgence
Self punishment, self sacrament, stretched
...

It bothers me to know
That although we fall asleep embraced
My arm tucked up behind your neck
My face facing your upper back
...

Within a tomb
Or just a room,
A catacombs
Or just the place to kneel;
...

Every facet of her phrases
Freeze and crystallize
Hidden trinkets deeply bedded
Within her crystal eyes
...

Short road
Odd bent trees
Long episode
Of me
...