closing in on
being true
in light of relapse,
taking up less space
while face to face-
no blame,
curtains parted.-
still no rain.
creative writing
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.
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.
shaded in
quiet
on
dug up
boneyard bus
‘tween deadbolt
vents
gasp chimney
hearts-
a watched sun
danced.
peeled from
wall like painted tape
masks our
ages,
raised a page
towards youth’s flame
and licked up ash despite
its taste..
streams like ink between
my temples
into sky.
prescription
scribbled on my hand..
bland sunday
head buried in someone’s story,
asked for
the housekeys back,
drove to hear music move
like my body’s
steam,
night whistles through
the cracks we
dream.
dress up any
horror,
softer side of blade
on ribbon-
drag it tighter
to match mood of room,
unfasten mask
to watch them gasp in fright
daughters drape the stairs,
all eyes after
midnight.
hands in the garden 
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