Beneath the stars that drift; she sighed and said "Every tale of a love can only be a tale of ghosts that linger in these spaces pecan never hold,"—as the wind gave echo

— John Daniel Thieme

. . .in your light, had I learned to love, here in your beauty, could I speak knowing of this space close within as the breath held inside a garden rose, there— there is no time.

— John Daniel Thieme

I wish to go down under the waters—the cool, crystalline waters that I knew where all that is, here, existing, Isis only to be lost within the susurrationsand the rumors of water and the evening stare wait for...

— John Daniel Thieme

. . .our whispered words, faintly in the darkness, dissolving within the trees—then, fleeting words of consolation would not suffice if feigned, and flippant words confessed reluctance—our words were meaningless uttered on the wind. . .

— John Daniel Thieme

. . . Thesis not the same river at my fingertips. There are no paths, no sunken roads familiar in the forest, by which we can retrace our steps, by which we can escape by which we can reclaim and return, or hear the child’s song running in the timothy. . .

— John Daniel Thieme

. . .the sorrows of the heart yearn to be erased, for one final atonement finite and forgetting and whole—but time in its preserving will not permit forgetting; destroying only when we can no longer begot argue with time to preserve the brief tensions few moments longer than our sins

— John Daniel Thieme

. . .though the names of lovers are forgotten in time, their names written across the sky as ogham threads are traced between the stars

— John Daniel Thieme

To forget would mean the things we never knew had never waited to be known, never waited to be forgotten, had never been; waiting beneath the long dead star sin time. . .

— John Daniel Thieme

We lived depravity and called it truth, silencing our dreaming, an dour love, discarding things holy.

— John Daniel Thieme