little red drops of pain
dripping again.

and i'm sipping on
the salt, telling my
brain, that there's a name
i need to burn.

I'm cold, and that's not a lie,
like the ocean i hold, of
delusion, and petty illusions,
that creates a ripple, in the
pond, and i find myself adrift,
and so on my own. in this
confusion.

give me knowledge,
questions. answers are
for scientists and the
redundant. i have an
abundance of those.

i hold myself close.
like thorns to a rose,
i'm my own sin,
nothing ever more.

i am sure, there's a door
somewhere to the light.
somewhere on the right,
away from sight and wrongs-
i've heard so many songs
about kisses and stars,
of names and scars,
i need something else.

i need a new galaxy,
to hold on-to and learn,
to cherish and then burn.

because it is only, i, here,
and i'm not the only one.

in this
pocketful
        of limbo
          the distance rises
               in curls of smoke
        a prairie fire
siphoning into
crisp edge
           of forest
          Inside my
uncloaked ventricle
primeval forces
turn my blood into
dusted gold
as they pump
        sacred texts
into my oxygen
      They roll your quintessence
upon my fingers,
            playing inside
     my psyche's  
wild ache
a spread of orifice
in spellbound mantra,
       as I spit out
          the
            hairy thorns,
a holy purge of
   internal
        engravings
    
Somehow ---
like a miracle,
I grow ripe seedlings
from deep within
            my womb
as I trip into
a universe rising
I take wisps
of your grace
as it brushes
the jut of my
astral collarbone
You are always
         grounding me
                    like this,
               my tongue
              tripping
         over velvet
stance of warrior
        assuaged into silk
    
        Without you,
I might be
whisked off into
the periphery
of chaos
but instead
       I am simply
tied to
      the urgency
of the little novas
about to
        explode

While I wait
            I tend to
              the wildfires.
     to make sure they
                   are still burning
I keep my honey
wet and fresh
upon your
                   lips,
let my pores
drip moonpools
    into your glistening
wet of mouth
and only when
          it is time
I let the whole of
           me burst
into the
      fire -wrapped
tips of
   stars