I like old glass
with bubbles

Pockets of breath
of the dead laid to rest

I break and I breathe and I taste

Their spices
and vices

Kisses from wives
Curses and verses

Songs of themselves
Wine of their wrath

Salt from their baths

Smoke from their fires
Sweet tastes of desire

Shared sighs and cries
Dead butterflies

Air.

AMONG the bumble-bees in red-top hay, a freckled field of brown-eyed Susans dripping yellow leaves in July,
        I read your heart in a book.

And your mouth of blue *****-I know somewhere I have seen it rain-shattered.

And I have seen a woman with her head flung between her naked knees, and her head held there listening to the sea, the great naked sea shouldering a load of salt.

And the blue ***** mouth sang to the sea:
        Mother of God, I'm so little a thing,
        Let me sing longer,
        Only a little longer.

And the sea shouldered its salt in long gray combers hauling new shapes on the beach sand.

Sometimes brilliance is a broken light
Flashing on and off of it's own accord.
Blinding and flickering in synchrony.

Sometimes brilliance is a fickle *****
Flipping the switch of discord
-******. I lost it. Oh the irony.

See, sometimes we're inspired
And sometimes we're not.
You can tell the difference by a lot
Of instances in which brilliance fades
Like when you need the Ace of Spades
For that beautiful royal flush
But you've got a full house of mush and gush so you hush and blush at every word and signal thrown your way because at the end of the day all you are is summed up in the words you didn't say to those around you. The people you've lifted and the people you let fall, count it up, count it all. All the times brilliance failed and all the times you've prevailed are more than just a flickering light. They are your guide and they are your sight. Embrace them while you can for they just might be extinguished at the end of the night.

Look.

He was just very enthusiastic about
being a fireman. He was always on
time and he never stole anything.

That's all I wanna say about it.

He never touched nobody or nothing.

That's all.
Really.
And stop calling.

My nails are glossed in pink
Just like my mouth, glimmering
Tapping on the white linen-dressed table
In dim evenlight. Crystal glasses
Catch the shine in golden rings
Leaving kisses on champagne flutes
Hairspray mingles with Noir perfume
The fragrance of merlot and flame
His smell lingers on my sleeve
Where his arm, his aura brushed me
Swirls of crimson and black velvet
Jazzy chords crossing grand piano
Warm breath weaving whispers
Tickling the ear, reddens the cheek
His finger brushes silk from my eyes
A tress of curled brunette
Tinkling silver, muted by the mood
Like a stage, painted by a master