The memory of her sits on a balcony ledge, cigarette in hand.
My green light at the end of a dock.
And this time I am reaching out
like many before,
in pages and poems past.
Macbeth’s face is a book.
Her body is an atlas
tracing a beautiful continent.

Follow the long tributaries that lead to shallow deltas.
This shore begins softly and forms into slender feet,
quiet but powerful when outstretched an angler waiting for prey.
Odysseus, only, can hear this Siren play.  

Follow her legs, those tawny plains,
unbroken, guiding along welcomingly,
inviting curiosity and conscripting imagination.
An oasis.
And her torso is a valley from which
her laughter is ****** upward and resisted until uncontainable.
Dimples break and burst like earthquakes.  
A ridgeline is all that awaits until we see her face.
She is the Americas from bottom to top.

Follow her decorated canyon mouth
but know it is merely a diversion.  
Her eyes are icebergs, which shyly reveal themselves
to sink ships and drown lovers, for always.
Her hair is aurora borealis,
the northern lights,
dancing colorfully
to an unaccompanied waltz
heard by everyone but her.

As the memory of her sits the smoke billows around
like clouds traveling down a coastline
only to dissipate
and disappear.

The Other Stars are watching my Orpheus, rowing a Tea Cup 'cross the Mighty Mississip'
chewing on cobwebs and split infinities.... never been at ease with a good ****... but Love's Will
is Oroborus... and to believe in you now, would set ablaze a thousand torments...
The Last Drop from The Last Orange. The Other Stars have Tears in Their Eyes.
They weep the Mighty Mississip'

So i can be on my way
So I can Be
on My
Way.

I'm calling you out
Of my mind
Manifest yourself
Come on, blow up in my face

To the:
Bombshell
With the short fuse
I'll be your Molotov cocktail
You be my fiery muse

I keep seeing your face
In sepia torn scenery
In the art of my dreams
trying to photoshop reality

To the:
Dream Girl
With her totem locked
I'll join you in a free fall
As I violently shake back awake
Alone

So it goes...

You're dancing my imagination
Heart-beating my soul
Tango of illumination

I felt your grace
In telepathic foreplay
My little mind-fu©k
life's stranger than fantasy

To the:
Princess,
Crowned in roses
I'll savor you as a Goddess
When you open your sweet blossom

So it goes...

You're dancing my imagination
Heart-beating my soul
Tango of illumination

Fire of my *****
Rising up my spine
We could be enlightenment-to-be
Like Nirvana
      Come on blow my mind