When the moon retires running her length
the river lies a fishbone on the white plate
feebly breathing like the slosh from oars,
the shadow digs a hole in the bush.

The faintest chill rattles don't escape
and the chatters dull as broken notes,
the shadow picks up from the mist
with the intent of an absorbed dreamer.

The gold diggers in that forbidden land
filter their preys keen to fill some more
from the mines lining the grey riverbank
with each reap a little closer to attainment.

The precise compass weighs the measure
tightening the muscles into a symphony
for that climb onto the ****** in one spring
before stealing the stilled, deep into silence.

whisky breath, stone cold sober
coffee skin under plain white cotton
soft flesh glazed with callouses all over
but his soul steady, untainted

he was raised among wolves
with no taste for romance; he knows this as well as he knows his own name
his love, his methods
brutal, rough, and explicit
reeking of bad habits and good intentions

(do not) listen
when he bellows past midnight on a moonless night
he comes undone
like a wire, exposed
trembling sparks of his ruthlessness embeds into your skin

the blinds are drawn and the wind chime sways
faint street light seeps into the room
his fiery eyes and strong jaw betray no sign of vulnerability
yet he is longing, demanding
for you to tuck him softly in the crook of your neck

open up to the east and west
he feasts boldly on his willing prey, devouring
deeply in its absolute rawness
chills travel up and down your spine
unforgettable like vocals of a singer’s hypnotic raspy voice
you want to be his favourite hiding place

he was raised among wolves,
dreaming under the midnight sun with eyes wide open
golden rays enshrouding him in a world outlined in black
rewriting the definitions of love, and he
won’t let anyone steal who he is meant to be.

orange dragon clouds
swirl in the dusky, baroque, winnowing sky
the once brilliant day dies within me
I cling to a rocky pinnacle        alone
one more step and I will laugh
my way toward heaven and
count the teeth of mountains
empty space my only confidante

When I wrote make believe
When I wrote make believe I was lost in a fantasy world
A world where anything could become possible
In the forest I can see elves dancing to unknown tunes
I can see stars gleaming 'neath a sky blue moon
Hordes of dwarfs trampling fresh green leaves Beneath iron shod
boots and cloven hooves
Lose yourself into a dark closed mind
Close your eyes and let words flow
You see fantasy is in all of you
Try it, it's not so hard to do

I'd help you
You're not my friend

I'm known as no face
I have no name

I was almost called the wind
You never see me
Only hear or feel me

I'd love to get to know you
my brain makes up excuses
on why not to

You look so pretty
but I never have the guts
to compliment you

Now I'll be known for being shy
Ask me whatever you want
and I'll reply

I once had a face
They took it away

I'm starting to forget
Who I really am