red moon’s
peculiar night climbing a cricket eye;
Lazarus the dead, fingers of the moon
colder than the dust of a poet
I leave to hide my wind-wept ghosts,
and plead to the shattering in star-death
to star-death; I fall,
dying,
broken off the spore
like mold.
a charred moon’s vining
velvets winding
around the stem
of a crystal
flute,
wasted land, the headless
scan seeds raped
the outsides frosted
on love’s eyes,
please peel the
crickets from
this bed of
off white lies
like I tried,
then go Lazarus the dead
resting from their
tinder boxes
and give me back
my head before
the bullet
holes
and i feigned
self-control,
+++
find refuge in
a dead tree,
the after-breath of a
star, dissolution,
in disunity, fangs
deep in womb’s
darker fruits,
+++
take me away, let
me breathe
alone,
trust i’ll float in
a storm’s
dust,
the infant midst night’s
wiser stars, i’ll meet
you wherever
you are.
++++
undress my undead
bones,
insomniacidal, in
voice tone
tragic, is it not, in
the ossification of
mother’s
womb
and stirs of despair,
conjure nothing
but a dream?
Ghosts of lovelorn,
prophets,
incinerate me in a
tomb of your
Lazarus
eyes,
and you, you can take
the head out of
my mind;
and in my dreams, take
the child, I was her,
ever chasing her
for touch.
dissolving in threat
of a bloody
moon,
unphased,
chew the scent of the
ethereal abyss
waiting,
in our duplicity,
have we lost
our minds instead?
I don’t know:
a dead fool is
better than gold.
Dust motes meet
the dead ghosts;
our oasis drowns
and in whispered breath,
I see the autumn lichen
swirl into fresh
cocktail of
winter
with a candle path
lit to the
stars.
*i am thrilled to have had the opportunity to write in collaboration with Lucy of Lucy’s Works.. please feel free to find her work and that of other talented writers at – https://lucysworks.com/
We are blessed to have folks who do much to support online writers and are just as blessed to have such a wealth of quality writing that we have folks that feel the desire to support it.
Great work!!! 👍🖤