Never Lose It ...

So where do I begin?

Properly: where you end,

a blown kiss in the wind imagined under city lights.

The story remains the same.

906 103 0711

If I am brother to the night call her sister to the rain:
blood beats staccato drops upon my heartstrings;
blasts neo-tribal rhythms through frozen aqueducts;
A piece of peace on the precipice of higher learning,
bestow nirvana, future fantastic.
She rolls like thunder.
And I hear her cry
breaking deafening silence through gritted teeth and shadows borne.
Her words are mountains,
her scars like the grooves of her favorite 45 -
mellow, melodic pulsing funk beneath broken skin
salted with teary-eyed wonder.

I see the jungles in her eyes.

Until It Sleeps ...

i bleed the heartbeats of a thousand others
begging for a crack in the door;
endless endearing souls fighting the queue
searching for a way home.
the stars cry streams of tears through broken skylights
and fill the wells beneath their eyes,
emptied at the feet of martyrs playing king.

Butterflies ...

I awoke to see Egypt in her eyes,
Australia on her heart,
and feel Spanish raindrops fall on Italian vistas and pulse through her veins.

She came to me in a dream I once dreamt I had
playing timpani to Miles' horn;
dancing samba to Cab's jive;
living dichotomy.

A world away she waits, ever patiently
to see what this man will become
on the day she has already lived.
A world away I wait
to watch over her tomorrow.

Undisclosed Desires ...

sister to the night
parting lips whisper "baby,"
darkness can't contain

* * *

eminently free,
unchained mind of eden, douse
fiery recess

* * *

a brazen lust
bore fruits of labor undone
the kiss of oceans

* * *

I want more...

Muddy Waters ...

a letter to the
woman i once loved more than
myself: i still do.

* * *

sinister nightfall
frigid still winds of horizon
the wide-eyed unknown

* * *

terrified of you
truth falls over still closed lips
soothing inner demons

* * *

unshakable sight:
your eyes dance across loose leaf
under the dyed moon

* * *

nights are lonesome e-
ven though ostensibly no-
thing has changed at all.

The Funeral ...

Let us all bow our heads and mourn for the moment that never was.

It wasn't until I felt I was in the right state of mind that I realized I had gone too far left. So far, in fact, that not only was I lost, but I had lost all sense of reason. Or season. Winter melted into Summer before I noticed the Fall, and only the chilled breeze through the open window alerted me to my miscarriage. My peace disturbed by the kiss of a black widow.

Throw no roses; I'd only arrange them at her feet.