chatter plucks on nerves
then becomes the chirp of birds
shunning words and fenced in meanings
embracing the beauty of being
and freedom to
dream
closing in on
being true
in light of relapse,
taking up less space
while face to face-
no blame,
curtains parted.-
still no rain.
cloak city blows like
chewing smoke
breath etches fad
past into
glass
finish scraped
from eyes
devised to
hide
graffiti framing
flowers.
whispers
under waterfalls,
unmasked in soft
light,
i love like
you showed me,
almost knew
me..
newborn beyond
boredom,
fadeout in a photo frame
called home.
thru coal mist
glasses,
the swell of noon sun’s
fork tongue,
blood in chew of
tree gum
wedged in crack
of attic
over home help
panic.
the cool sweat of
silence,
a cruel drowsy
pause
for bite like dark coffee
and deep people
reflecting
loss,
fevers bubble under
fangs of
frost.
glitter splattered on
bald beach,
caught flexing like
car salesman’s
teeth,
i can’t reach can in
unlit fridge,
ever kiss
frostbitten lips?
crawled from
the mouth of crowd
to let go,
growing faint like sky,
on standby
as birds collide,
the dream blown
cold,
tap runs
rust,
too raw to hold hands
ungloved.
arms linked through
clouds like
chaos,
our fadeout:
vintage and nostalgic,
a cinematic splash
on canvas
drips
thru cracks in glass
we slip.
melancholy dressed
in dream-
bleeds from
ceiling,
best not
call
after locking
door
in the face of
friends-
fade to smile
again.
hands in the garden 
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