My heartache aches
In a streaking falling façade of a homeless soul about-face

Like ink dropped strains across a dripping chest
Revealing no tissue but the clouds and clouded paints

Like a comet dying in the atmospheric life of nothing
Tempting no one to look, but everyone under the sun to see

My hair above me and in moonlight come alive
At the electric touch of your skylight fingers

find me

I swear S O M E T I M E S that
   I'm the only one who see's the sun
   like an arrow dart
   erratically beyond the target of time
   and A R I S E into the sky of life

We all who miss (just high)

when darkness comes
with every closing day in eyes
and we must face, about-face
the restlessness of our untrusting lives
it's in arms and beds and promises
in which we hope to hold and sometimes find
a kindly, sorted, trusted self
a bed on which we all must lie

in sketch or smoke or clouded streak
I just want another draw of you
(to etch and breathe)

You're not captured in your paint,
compelled by stills,
or encompassed by song at all, my friend

No descriptive words can color your sky,
no sprinters length catch you without breath,
or fail to float the fly on the wind, no less

That is unless you let them say
what you are not,
is all you are, untrue

For you are the essence, embodied, reborn
not what anyone else says
or thinks they know of you