New poem, looking for feedback.

I'm a little tentative about putting this out here, but this is the first real inspiration I've had in so long and it's different from what I've done before. It's left me emotionally raw, but I want to pursue it further.



To love is marvelous.
My soul rips itself from every thought, pounding... but I don't forget. Not so easily.
Moment by moment I dip my fingers into atoms of my being,
atoms so tightly twined with yours.... with you.... unless my poor delusion
only beats and pounds with a mere memory of what I have loved.

Words, words, and more words
All just words and promises I drain down to emptiness and roses.
Poor roses, no meaning left in silken supple petals and sweet fragrance,
symbol and metaphor pass by to make then a laughing stock...
to make me a laughing stock.

Never mind my breasts or the curve of my neck,
Nor the swell of my lower lip as it trembles for only itself to notice.
Months go by before it realizes what little desire it evokes.

Good friend, pass the time in lazy leisure now,
no more pressing matters of how to make it to the moon
with $200 and the blood of two hearts, too flaming hopefuls.
Children are foolish,
make believe we can touch a star without getting burned, and we get burned.

Beauty lies in the tightness of jaws, the clenching of eyelids,
the heavy slide of tear drops and the gasping of a dying woman,

Must we be so melodramatic.

But the wind howls, rippling a frail roof, and the mortal fears
all will be lost in the mad passion of things,
Anger and rage rip through time and space from throats, and the mortal fears
more will be lost than just cash value and convenience,
Two years go by and end with nothing but more misunderstandings,
tripping graceful bodies; depositing them in unexplored territories, unfriendly.

Good friend, you're so far away now, though you haven't moved.
Voice, face, and familiarities fall into neat boxes marked Memories,
Stomachs cramp with the contact of old wishes found there,
I revisit them often.

I play your thoughts in my own, parading them through broken glass,
laugh! The soles of their feet bleed like mine,
start the fire to burn them, also!

The cells the tissue the muscle the bones burst and crack like firewood
Flesh melted and twisted, smells like experience.
Doomsday is like roses, but if you come to meet me anyway, I've broke already
Lost in ashes....

Atoms remain.