i promise you’re
mine,
you bury shy
eyes
in
faded flannel
sleeve
like you almost
believe.
shadow work
ever in shared
orbit
yet not within
reach,
just missing each
other’s
hands due to
speed
of
the spin we lost
ourselves
in.
from bed of dried
up ocean,
open
our hearts
to sentiments
folded
under mattress
soiled
from blood run
cold.
a kiss in blindness
kindles
bliss
on surface bare
to urges
flared
in darkest of
the pit
we shamelessly
submit.
she’s a wax on
skin erotic,
if she knows this,
its seldom
flaunted
and
the less
we speak of it
the more we
feel.
we blaze the moon
enchanted
despite whispers that
sun’s dead
of
lifeblood
lost
in restless state of
permafrost.
no single word has
meaning
this late
into rekindling..
promise wrought
with back
turned
to lifetimes that
won’t burn
away
despite all we do
or don’t
say.
the spirit’s quiet
writes
peaceful music
played
in
privacy please
forget..
me should you
listen,
is curiosity the
reason?
the taste of dagger
dipped in
wine-
dusk’s forked tongue
slithers
up
my spine.
amidst involuntary
trance,
a mist shimmers in
my sightline-
eyelids wax
sealed-
collapsing space taking
shape as
clouds,
cheeks of charmful
children-
purplish and
plump
peer through
veil-
giggling arcane
replies
to questions not
yet posed.
hands in the garden 
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