******* before the mirror of your soul
the tired throne of confusion
burns the illusion that we are all alone
what can compare to the hairs of the earth
is it a purse made from old shirts and words
as birds and feathers fled the forest's shelter
the burning embers head west
into the zone of the setting sun's dismemberment
are you perplexed or just scared sacred
death wasted on the fences
you shy away from sentences
that we both know
are just a little too close to home for comfort
i am a lonely poem portrayed
by an infinite number of frames of reference
so i claim my place in the heart of infinite wonder
as the thunder states your name
and screams your secrets into the stars
our hearts were always made from art
and we are being charged with negative ions
like the lions and dinosaurs that have come before us
our women lie freezing in the warmest of holes
so we comb the sand for diamonds
and try to make the land grow again
I am reprimanded for standing on one leg for too long
and begging you to come back home
if you glance towards me i’ll look away
as shade from a tree covers your face
was it a waste of speech
to try and crawl too deeply
into those feelings that you sought to deny
and what if we see each other again someday
will we wait for the other to acknowledge
that i was too much of a coward
to dance in the face of all that abstraction
at the edge of my comfort-zone
love falls into oblivion
a wastrel and a sparrow
as the cantankerous showers
start flowering in our folds
as growth is esteemed
so do we eventually redeem our own soul