The Twelth

This kiss, this sun on skin,breaking leaves give way to heavy steps.This path a mirrored dream,These brambles rip, tear - kiss. The broken skin, sky ripping. Shouting. Crackling.                  Burning.My mind full of an echoing shout:your words a scornful lecture, fading.The distant voices. The chorus of morning.

a mind, bound

you did not kiss her when you touched her the last time, your entry lacked finesse - was more like your marriage, cold, hard, familiar inevitable, regrettable but... you held her, wrists above her head, hips cracking manic hard bound and again, and again, and again you touched her, that stranger, walking by you, you … Continue reading a mind, bound