hes tall
hes much taller than me
and my mind is at war with itself
the male body is so very beautiful
i think it looks stunning
he looks ancient and stone
but not at all old
he looks like he is made fun of by his mother
and her mother
he has no mother
so much rage
i hate her
his eyes are so sad
i want him to laugh why can't he laugh
i want to be his mother
i want to be small in his arms
but i'm trapped
i'm broken alone
he's not true
i don't think hes true
so i take the form
and i love the form
equally to the other
and i cherish the other form
for it is forever etched into my mind
the taste of her body
the smell of her crown
he wears a much bigger crown
yet i want them both
and i want power
i want the crown

Moving less toward the past
than to the future.
God save my ghost.

Drilling lanes into my flesh
by turning the screws.
Tighten my plates.

Before I know it
come undone again,
eager for the dawn's
heavy noose.

Bowing as a point
to the morningstar,
witness, sufferer,
bane and boon.

Landing in the cage with broken wings,

All he had left were these futile things.

Roaring in defeat and screaming in pain,

The angels had won and the monster was slain.

A collaboration between Elisa Maria Argiro and SG Holter.*

Dear feather. You fell on my heart.
I keep you on my person now; pocket held;
An eternal companion.
As beautiful as you, I remind my
Thoughts to be.
I wake up as Buddha every day.                  
Peace is the corner stone of my breathing.

Dear Last Crescent Moon,
adorning Lord Shiva's brow,
smiling toward Morning Star
enjoying her sweet presence
in clearest predawn light.
She smiles too, drifting into feathery sleep.

Birdless flight, unclenched, un-
Clung to.
With this dew drop in my palm
I need no ocean to swim in.
How can Life's castle, with its wars and
Tragedies, hide within its
Towers of                                                          
Nois­e such quiet chambers?
Paper sails, bamboo, emerald waters.
Single feathers rest even when
Airborne.

From your outstretched palm,
sweet taste of morning touches
my tongue, oceanic dew drop
sharing itself across floating time.
An offering holding the last shining
starlight of this new morning. Drifting
now through limitless space,
finding words in our common language
on your yellow paper sails, we gaze down
from these towers of our ancient dreams,
emerald water below us waiting to catch
the falling feather.

Dear insight.
Light as the wind itself, you
Floated; fell on my heart.
Merged with heavy memories
Like paper balloons rising;
Tsunami of kamifusen
Render my whole being
Weightless.
Third-Eye-Hindsight sees me
Remembering nothing with
Bitterness.
One or a hundred lifetimes
Wandering.
Finally now,
Even waking hours feel like
Dreaming.

Dear Wisdom, Guardian Planet,
Buddha's radiance shining.
Thousand-Petaled Lotus
is now your own effulgent mind.
Smiling, eyes closed, feeling the
glowing kamifusen of magenta,
scarlet, turquoise, and yellow
floating above us,
we swim so deeply, diving down
into these warm emerald waters,
winking at the luminous fishes
dreaming all around us.