You were my bath,
On the cold Winter's day in my childhood.

Now as the water drains away,
I don't bathe lest
I'm slid to the vortex.

But risen I return
To dabble my hand in you,
In the spinning waters.

I think you feel my love,
And I yours,
As I walk,
And you swirl,
A dangerous game.

And I know you forbid me,
To approach your drain.

So let me enjoy my hand
in your current.

I wonder if I can tell you how it really was,
laying in bed in those warm covers,
with a reading light above,
close to the ceiling, in the top bunk,
with love sleeping in the next room,
and tender good nights.
Pure comfort?
Pure safety?
Perhaps something like
A boy in the realm of gods.
I can't really tell you,
how it really was.

these words
i'm scared to know
dropped like a penny
spiralling down the wishing bowl

i like the way it rolls,
fascinated,
like a child of three.

Then the drop,
I wonder where it goes?

muscle motion like a swelling ocean
thoughts running through your brain
build it and make it; thoughts remix
water the ground like rain

everyone knows that they love the sun
but they hiding in the shadows when they're having their fun
prophet on the hill says its just a game
and you gotta keep moving or you'll go insane.

I used to live
for my mortal fame
and perhaps a joy
in the sheer delight
of being

but something snapped
and i'm not the same
years have passed
with modest gain

the era of my fame has died
but i still have strength
I can supply.

i would if i can
bend my will
to take away your pain.

it's the only thing
to keep me sane.

I have a kinship with ghosts,
Sailing with echoes.
enthralled by permanence
And slow demise,
The illusions
Of paradise.

But Life was given me
Through livened eyes,

I would have wandered,
Through spiral stairs of stone,
Would my soul have a awoken?
Or would I have wondered, alone?

What is their else,
Than the look in the eyes,
Of another cosmic being,
Of this very cosmos, seeing