The river wrapped around your ankles
As I willed you to stay
Tilting over the drowsy mountaintops
For just one more winsome glance
You stumbled over canyons, fell over forests
And the river let you be

Uttering praises upon your fair skin
Your dark hair hallowed as sacred
These half deserted dawns mean nothing underneath the weight of your alabaster palms and wrists
Looks of a foreign tragedy without translation
You are sacred transparency
An unknowable thing
Just as we are beneath ourselves

Where I dwell now
Beneath the busy streets
Inside jealous palms
Atop of an echo
I'm still in the solitude of spring
and like a spider curling in on itself,
I depart

Curiosity

Curiosity never killed.
But what is found does the true damage.

wet are
the
winds of
missing,
of...
sadness.

the winds
speak of
pain,
of
throated
screams.

the winds
blow on
by,
the winds
return
like boomerangs.

these winds
travel
over land
and over
sea.

but
make no
mistake,
these winds
of change
always
make it
back
to me.