I prefer to write my own:
A heart moving from thread to threads
Searing cracks in the mind,
heated by cold deprivation.
Weaving Fate's Golden Cord,
knotted and entangled,
Vortices of one deep intuition giving holes to reason,
twisting a sense of the self.
Tears run down the face,
Streams of broken glass, prisms of lost dreams,
cutting softly through a hardened face,
hammered by a cloud of time.
Empty space, blued by fog of serene thought,
an opening of the eye.
Gated by atoms of memories,
Dissolved through the stirring of time's sharp movements.
A flickering hope within the womb of unknowing.
Head rested in her lap, she runs her finger's along old scars,
light folding through light.
Sealed within a veil of the vacuum,
oblivious to desire or intent.
Waves resonating unpitched sound unravel as a bed,
Images of time, flooded in tranquility.
Finger's calloused by a burdened mind
a caressing her ,
softening the coarseness of a disturbed sea,
hardening and lengthening the vitality of reason.
The "I" folds into her,
penetrating mysteries,
the "I" thrusts deeper and deeper.
"Will" released,
a neck bejeweled by the tear's of a lover's pain,
bending the curvature of space, she arches back.
Her lips breath into the psyche,
spreading open she receives
to birth thought and feeling,
all unknowing.