The sky shelters you and
I from the sky itself,
Bleeding clearly a cleansing,
As disguised a drowning, of

Mossy light over your thigh
Bone, raw and swollen.
The Gods eat it up and
Declare war on the rest,

Like myself in feverish night,
Sky is groaning hot—
Steaming like Hell,
All faithful to itself.

Tide pool crest of ivory mist;
Apex of sky—blinding back-light.
And I, writhing under its eye
Contain all but any innocence.

I have cracked the gates, an
Uncanny peace of clouds
Glimmering like water, like wool
Being spun by the hands of the light—

The kiss of the light—my master
Penetrating the mystery itself,
A nauseating beauty, silently
Howling: Death, Death…  Death

As the symmetry of the swirl
Curls my heart into a fist
Forcing, fitting myself into a box,
I leave the excess for my corpse
To find, swollen and bursting with gas.

Golden hour daughter
Splitting eyes gouging light—
Harboring disfunction, not
Finding sensory stimulation
Beyond illusion— overactive/>

Am I a life force,
Or a chair for it to sit?

Stitching pixels to form—
A drive to keep an open
Ripped rib wind— about  
My drouth stomach,
Itching, salivating…

Trees; uprooting arteries
From a garden growing
In destiny’s sterile womb,

I walk inside
The frame of crime—TIME
A desolate dusty-green capsule.  

And I walk outside
The frame of time—CRIME
A burning slate-red lake.

Arteries, rooted like trees
Form this heaving orb-corpse of mud,
Birthing fleshy despairs.

My angel, my brave bird
Bursting perfect with words,
Let me hear them softly sung.
My strong one, come closer,
Let me hold you in chilled
Moon-glowed embrace.

My lover, my dark water
Give me a taste, a lick
Of your fire, of your desire.

Like a siren I caw for you,
Like a bird of paradise lost.
I beg you to break me;
My soft feathery neck
That crooks to your name
And howls in the night

Like a dog— my love,
Fire me like a pistol.
Bury me in your clamoring heart.

I said
With defensive defiance,
I can go by myself [all alone]
Into that orange twitching woods.

As branches jolt
Into shutter release, quick mystique
Of that yellow cat
Is found with only the sun in her eyes;

A soft machinery: organs of utter chaos,
That frame of beauty.
My smaller self would stop and listen,
Heartbeat quicken —

A fall through the ice;
I only wanted to freeze the frame.
Yellow lungs, paste from the sun;
[I'm heaving with my heart now]

when the sky saw your eyes i thought it was a floodplain, but you lifted up my chin and had an anerism. the sky came in folds.

once you said it, i knew it was chance;
and the torrent would climb up the bridge
to the rug in my stomach