Comments about Joseph Ventimiglia
As the sun throws itself over mountains,
and paints its reflection in water and glass,
I am illuminated but far from enlightened,
for my love is as infinite as the golden rays that fall from the heavens,
but does not warm, nor caress your illusive face.
Slipping and reaching farther and farther stretching beyond the stars,
your heartbeat echoes through the frostbitten darkness of space…of time.
In this journey through mud and muck,
I only encounter false prophets among hollow statues,
while black blood falls from tear ducts amiss,
my strong arms ...