You came to me like the night
Reflects you – your eyes
Like lullabies that sing
The way
I see you
The inside blowing through
Me like
You do
Moving like
Honey on my
Shoulder-
you shower sweet
songs to me
Sweetened my caress to your
Face
near me
Silhouettes of your breath
speak
To the
whispers
In me
as you come through
Your beauty
moves me
Like the way
You
See
Me
See
You….
I can hear his voice on days like this
like the whisper and the anti-christ
at home
coming through a fine silk resemblance
of myself
inherits my tone and the bottomingless
culture we find when we belong
home grown
and there is nothing
ever known
to that tale
and its home
again
and the meaningless
alone
finding the wrinkle in the tune
to be my knew one…
The blues inflects
Every little step that
Holds me like the break in between
My breasts
And it shouts..”don’t you see!?!”
Like a mangled oblivion
In a room full
Of triangled mazes
There I am..standing
Lost in the moment
To the next
And next -
And not a moment to spare
When we meet again
And it just is…
This way.
junkyard confessions and insight beyond her days
rounded thoughts and fingers that run deep
and no single thought to remark in the brilliance
of this time to find her line
on a day (windy and cold)
she remarks and closes the call
and enters the next phase
of it all…
more than not a rupture of closed moments
only found more addressed than thought
but thinking that goes through ways I don’t
have to remember so much…
the speaking doorway is the only one remembered
intertwined with the heretic and the broken ledges I fall from time to time
how guitar sounds like the unfaithful moments of all the damages done
reiterating the way time changes in the distance and I just listen
to it all
as if it stood still….
I have a mile of fear that isn’t coercive
To anything but moving forward
And ideologies less adorned
And I find myself at a stopping point
Of what I should expect
And what I should just be OK with
And never does the truth filter down my leg
Like a dirty little thought that comes
From deep rooted side-notes
And not sure where I go from here
Not sure if I ask
Or just do
Or just lie down and say -
I’m through…
In the midst of the midnight flights
The radio seems so lost
In words that I can’t speak
when I do nothing –
The moment reaches
Its feet
And me – the moment
with you – the radio
Closed toe movements and a record
With a dial tone and a fit-to-be-tied booth
Not real sure where the moment is taking us
But, isn’t that the beauty
Of the symbiotic truth…
Beginning to counter-culture the white walls
That only find me when I’m not looking
Oh, how I miss….
The ground -
When did it all seem to find me
Amazing graces
All the way to the spit that trickles
Down my leg
When I forget to swallow
And the fangs
Seen only when I look at the others
But why do I want to cuz
There is no miss and how I can’t figure
Out this fire door that I’m jumping through…
When the trouble comes down
It’s the bottom, me and my whiskey can
I can’t seem to abbreviate my emotions
This early on a Monday
Only one thing can condone such mind clutter
And the overcompensation for approvals
Unwarranted and unneeded – but me, my bottom
And the unnecessary …
 | gstarene on White nothingness… |
 | Eugene on Sifting through…. |
 | Sandra on escalating bounds |
 | Skunk on Cradled… |
 | Alexis on Rehearsing nostalgic feed… |
