The wheel of fortune turns for me,
And always, revolves at its own leisure.
Time is curved where the future will be,
But always flat when it is measured.

The rest is a serpent, in every direction,
Forever consuming the end of its tail.
Self contained death and resurrection,
Superluminal ship, without wind or sail.

Will you safekeep our knowledge when it is done?
Humanity’s worst as well as its best?
Will you mind if it’s turtles, all the way down?
A stable foundation on which to rest?

Where will you fall, at the teeth or the tail?
Destroying or rebuilding anew?
If All is cyclic, then we’ll meet once more,
Eternal versions of me and of you.

Demons are God's mistakes

Angels that could not quite make the cut

I'll be nothing in your backseat
resting your hand on my upper thigh.
So high when I'm feeling your energy
and down with a lower case lie.
I'm searching for rain,
in an endlessly cloudless sky
gazing through your drought ridden eyes
and gasping into ground, always dry.

It's so gentle that I bleed
strawberries, lip balm, summer breeze
things I always thought I'd lost,
joy was too quick to take its leave.
Be my sugar, to the lemon that I squeeze
be my greatest chase, after all
we are free.

Past the tattoo parlors and broken freight trains
scared we'll run out of town before long.
Rubbing you out of my mind like an ink stain.
I'm not sure I've ever really been strong
can't find where I stand and you remain,
you tell me, what is right and what is wrong.
Wondering, if like mine,
does your face ever grow red
like a rising Aries dawn?
Always unsure why I showed you my tan lines
when you're so alright having nothing on.