the smell of pancakes
drifts me into dream
and in the golden sunday morning light
sketches possible futures into the wood floors deep surface
and my eye wanders that thought
as time passes slowly
the girls chat over the days events
and my mind catches edges of dresses
and the soft curve of ankle
as she barefoot's to the grass in the yard
giggling her sweet heart to the summer like december air
placing the tray of treats
just beyond the reach
and entices me to rise  from my writing
and join them in this fare
need your strength for bed baby she teases
and runs her lips along my earlobe
i turn to meet her tender kiss
and taste her strawberry's and cream
taste of her deep waters love
and know that i need search no more
that time passes slowly
but it cannot pass slow enough to hold me
in this wonderful moment
with her presence in my senses
and i regret time for this
for i know it will pass far too soon

What will the news say about the girl
dark skinned and frail in your arms
removed from warmth in the dark of night
as means of debt collection?

Impact
Car wreck
Dim teeth
To dash
Retreat
Through pain
In rain
For her
protection

Steal back living, stolen property
mistakenly signed away
for the means of living, eternal
by backs reset to zero.

It's all right, honey, I'm here to save you

She'll turn white before the media
you've known since your acceptance
money hides the child in its green blades
pulled through kept grass hiding glass.

It's all right, honey, They'll keep you sleeping

Chopper
Blade cut
Touchdown
Escape
Brown face
Crying
Screaming
Breathless
Reaching
For his Blood

I did a psychopath test
And failed miserably.
I am so glad.
Apparently, my capacity to be hurt
Is far, far greater
Than my capacity to hurt
Which is reassuring,
As at times, this year,
I have felt like a monster
Worthy of the orange jumpsuit,
The media sensation,
And the lurid reputation.
But the test tells me to be careful,
That many others don't share my "well developed conscience"
And will damage me, beyond repair,
These others, they don't care.
Beloved, aching poets,
Beware, Beware, Beware.

Cold, dark night. Birdsong.
Shattering silent torture.
Thank you, feathered friend.

Black ink on pale skin
Moonlight, my green scottish eyes
Tides sway in rhythm.