Her face

A waterfall of dark hair,frames her face - focusingeyes that grace you,a gift when they find you,to burn through your lies,the untruths you sell(mostly to yourself,the hell of twisted introspection) The lips, curve - paint the air,an artist framing you.Your tremble as she measures,her whispersweighted with her foreign tongue,pronouncementssighsand the sudden soundsof surrender Her face, … Continue reading Her face

The Ninth

This body, your muted cries -a drying river splitting deep woods,a lowering babble over rounded pebbles.The doe lowering her head, finds dry rock,the rasping tongue on unforgiving stone. Grey clouds that give no respite -your neck in memory, fevered dreams -arching back and forth, hair whipping.Your knees bent alongside rising hips,the fading roar of a … Continue reading The Ninth

When the Salt Blew

In woods, along the ocean,the trees feed along briny streams,the moon feeding,then starving,day upon day -time without end In woods,forest that turn towards marsh,estuaries holding heron,dinosaur-like beasts taking wingbeating along curving waters,disappearing into copses of white cedarscrubby pine, bent by winds In woods, where I fed her grapes, a picnic my young heart had packed,the … Continue reading When the Salt Blew

When We are brave

When we are brave enough we are not present we are simply in a wrong moment Between key strokes and dramatic elipsing lays our raging moments, against the dying of the light And we feed our platform as it feeds on us, our bravery (our sex) is stroking keys and raging at random moments