Exiled to dusk,
Fractions of the sun
Begin to lift away,
In concealment
We shudder,
Casting our reels
Into a pond of uncertainty,
Clock hands bend
With advancing shadow,
And speak of time
Only in past tense.

I so want everything
I ever felt for you
Preserved for posterity,
Even should forever
Be far less than
We imagined.

In the limelight of once covenant
Feel and touch
Drops cling to the curling of my rose
(She darkens there, in the light of you)
I recoil in the gloaming
The shine shimmies
And bursts

To the floor
Of scattered leaves
And dried red petals
The moisture will not plumpen them
Or shout any good fragrance onto the breeze

You gaslight my blue abrasions
Creating phantasm on my skin
A silhouette of features I know well
Mouth and hummmm
Low vibratory calling
A song that sings
Eons into my existence

But I await
In crouch and ready pose
(My curl has not devastated my posture she may unbend herself)
To spring forth
Out of these blue black strikes
You have laid on my courage

My keeper has become
A tree that bears fruit
I will pluck from it
And willingly be put out

My flowering held in hand
Full bodied in the wildest
Temptation met with choice
And it darkens only the red of my lip

What is left *****
Myself
For your perversions grow only
When pressed inside my shadowy illusion
(So keep it to stroke some lonely afternoon)

My eye will grow to no longer notice
Any contusion
I shed my skin and walk out of apparition

Grace and beauty shown only
In a strong light
To those who might keep their shadows for themselves

Let me show you
Through the soft and gentle folds
Of fabric stitched with a fine silk threading
My raison d'etre

See there in the yellows of sun
And the pinks of this special moon
A new season
And reason to bloom

I have had days too long
And nights that fought the dawn to come
I have been so tired
From lonesome walks that I placed first foot in surely

But there are heavenly eyes that have brightened to see my arrival
And my eyes would shine to see yours

Of possessions
I need none but this
A loving glove for my hand that feels good in yours
To cover past fortunes told

But covered only a little while
until the comfort found in our grasp
Is as easy and familiar
As you once thought it used to be

We never saw it coming
how silently it crept
people dropping everywhere
it's no wonder 'Jesus wept'

Only the hands of the clock
move
and that tick-tock
that tick-tock..
(writer's  block)
..we're in a headlock,
'Billy Two Rivers' could
win by a technical knockout
tick
tock
no one remembers him
except for google,

watch google?
I do,
that creeps up silently
too.

Everything's out there to get us
and most of it we never see,
tick
tock,
the blasted clock makes me sick