Delicious are the days when
Inspiration fills up my lungs
With hope & desire & electricity
The urge to walk through fields
Of flowers, short and long
Letting the imagination dance
Inside of a garden in Paris
Singing Mozart from a balcony
Champagne and laughter all around
Thinking of the next novel to read
As you cruise the shore of Tulum
Tasting exotic fruits and wines
Along the Spanish front
Those days for me are gifts
The breathe of fresh air
One truly needs to move forward

I sing. I dream.
I dance, as the master of my own destiny
slowly drinking the elixir of life.

My voice swells bonding with breath.
My breath spirals connecting to wisdom.
The wisdom expands threading the moment.

And as I move through the gateway for harmony,
I smile. I scribe.
I write, letting my heart speak with visions

Visions that anchor, as my future becomes my own.

Can you see it?

The ceiling lights flickering,

painting the artificial over *****
sinks and grimy tile,
too harsh to be a halo,
more searchlight than anything.

I can see the dirt under your
fingernails, the lines of your tired
face, but I still want to push you
against that concrete wall,

kiss you stupid.

Thanks to these shaky hands,
this traitorous tongue, weak weak
spirit and give in, give in like
always, but you don't know.

You make me want to be cruel.

Everything ends in salt and sand,
the ocean swallowing the world
whole, fire and ice an afterthought.

I had you pegged for a fighter, you know?

You might have been, once.
The self is a slippery thing,
sweetheart. I spent hours trying
to dissect sunlight.

What do you do with something that can't be cut
open, can't bleed?

Flesh is the body and the body
is what holds the soul,
meat suit maybe, but it's all
connected somehow.

Cut me there and there, but the
sadness won't bleed out. Nick me
here and here and here, but the
love won't leave me,

just fills every particle of the room and fogs up the glass.