swoll pupils
bob
like tealights on
pound of
clouds,
grey lightning
lips
submerged
in all words turn flood
heart sculpted of wax
and blood
pools like sand in
veins dried
shut.
coloursofthesoul
intimately,
bodies harmonize
with summer mist
spattered on fogged glass
in crystal streaks
pearl beads
weep
from swollen folds
upon sheets dirtied rose
glows each
breath,
stretched cotton thread
swabs skin
raw
of sin made
song-
in reckless waves,
here and
gone.
out flat, head unscrewed,
refusing
to cinch gaps
between time’s
straps,
should i swell
whole
enough to feel
held-
blameless and
unlearned,
would shelf sag
where books are meatiest?
-undigestible,
inkwell churns,
page by
dead skin page-
i skim along but words
are not the
test
must be burned.
rusty owl
bleeds into lowest branch
of sky..
ends where eyes
melt slow,
then swell to life with breath
rekindling flame
and flesh..
ash dissolves like
desert snow
into good morning’s
stubborn glow.
just a little thank you
or no
leaning over
looking onward ghostly
tempt me into
fading more to ignore
groans from gut
of fridge
box fibers cave at
acrid sight
of tomb like room
this sickly
bright.
peeling tape from corners,
oh so muggy mists rose morning
over lens of glasses, crooked
postures painting
hides the
rot
and butter sweat’s spread thick with
blade dragged glistening
from dirt water
daily dangers swamped in sink
badly needs draining
but why bother.
welcome a whisper-
the rustle,
a fistful of feathers
released
to the ether
in ballet
of the scattered.
magnetic antics,
splatters of eye contact
‘tween unshackled spirits
sweating musky rose,
plead on bruised knee to
mistress strobe,
fevers under night skins
distorting grins-
spin me to escape’s
fateful chase
in last place
on high-
splash my smokescreen face
in neon.
within body,
i seek distance
crowd the cage-
choking hazard comfort,
confines of contours
are womb, fluid imbued,
i crawl into
to imagine self unborn.
in the moment
there was no winner,
just backing into
corners,
where sunlight could
not reach,
and eyes would
not blink-
despite dust
hanging on each word.
hands in the garden 
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