shad flies storming
skull flag
cabin
spy them orbit crumbs
now bone
just winks before mum
quilted over
door
to summer
scabbed on roof
of mind-
dreams of luna
in my
lap
enshrined.
shadow work
hollowness
in being crowded
at taped off time of day
doorbell screams
i crank up screen
to shrink behind those
hard not to see
though i’m no better
crude and petty
palms pressed to skull moon
cold and sweaty.
bending to seductions
shading in blanks
moonrise glazing eyes
too vain for thanks
never granting self the chance
to be surprised
well sown but not growing
and its showing
who cares?
not love.
true embraces are precious
and oft elusive,
still, i disengage
in haste,
fleeting as the
sigh
of escapist
mind.
crisp feather heavens
citrus water gardens
steep her eyes
deep rosy
dusk.
cloak city blows like
chewing smoke
breath etches fad
past into
glass
finish scraped
from eyes
devised to
hide
graffiti framing
flowers.
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.
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.
hands in the garden 
You must be logged in to post a comment.