Watching my days on a crimson slide,
Born with the moon and run with the tide.
Faces in the shapes and the shifts to hide
Running to the wind on my crimson tide.

Reaching for the places, the faces all shied,
Saving all the graces and the races were tied.
The lock has a key and a bolt to hide,
The faces had the traces of a crimson lie.

The moonlight shone with the sun and sea,
The silver sickles tickled as they struck at me.
I'm free to be trapped and trapped to be free,
A world awash in crimson is all I see.

I'm all that I am and I will try to be,
Stuck to the sand and poured in the sea.
Rough to the hands, and cool and sweet
Crimson is no prison when you are born free

The telltale rattle of old bones
Hangs in the thin night air
From tenuous strings
Of what once was

Taking comfort in
Each others souls
As the rain pours
Around us
Like ice.
I love you,
Old friend.
I do.

Breath froths thick from my lips
Like cotton,
Drawn out into the thin autumn air
Forming gusty halos,
Wreaths of white,
Cheeks and nose pinken
From the crystal kisses
Placed gently like angel wings
Tingling with magic
In frosty air

It is not a measure of health
To fit in a sick society

Let me love for the good,
Not hate for the bad.
Live for the happy,
Not die from the sad.
For there is always light in the dark,
If you only choose to look.

If you look at the things
You no longer see,
They will become new again,
And so will you.

Today, I'm a little lost
A little aimless wandering
A little stuck between here and there
Drifting effervescently
Ephemerally
Ghostly, almost
Gone

Soft cotton fingers
Gently lift my head
From rolling shoulders
Rising up like smoke,
A waking dreamless sleep.
Rest, wanderer
Be still.