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.
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.
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.
this wax-eyed hour
of weak,
i’ve no appetite
for sleep,
to speak’s a reach
through scratched up screen,
watching stances
quarrel..
tangled,
flexing hot
caffeine,
man child pounds
on bar-
to rouse
alarm,
spreading fire ’round
a schoolyard war.
self-portrait hovers
crooked,
who’s yet to
notice?
railing’s
missing teeth.
last silver hairs line
carpet stairs
at foot of firepit
naps dad’s vacant chair.
slow displacing
weight,
years
pooled at my feet,
afloat atop the
puddle-
a grey teardrop
in heat,
on the cusp of
clearing
up,
chiseled
from clay sleep..
or
grief
of farewell worth
forgiving,
heart in hand,
while never knowing.
hands in the garden 
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