[... I can feel its humble goodness. It's in the pinky shadows that only come out when there's sun. And in the rustling of dry, decaying leaves-- a moment of airy respite 'till they pass through to what's next in their slow lives.]

I see sunshine encapsulated in
The rungs of time's branches--
And I am grateful
For the significance that
Temporary things know.

Oh dramatic beings, today
Let's be eased.
Feel the humming of
Sun striking Earth--
It is the most loving blow.

Remember the orcas and
The petals of spring yet to be.
Of our friends and their laughter...
Remember the roots that
Traverse beneath you and me,
And that constant
Slip of the tide...

Our memories are constant--
Indeed you can remember
What you have yet to see.

Dip your skin in this
Day's glory, and wear it so
For as long as it fits.

My jaw
Throbs
An evulsing
A swelling

Beat
And caressing
And careening
The tick

That hates
The space
Between
Our ties

And waits
And waits
And waits
And waits

Jäger bombs

Still, she somehow shows her shadowy sorrow. She slowly slips sweet sugary sounds, swallowing my shattered, scared soul. Stretching savored seams within my sleeve, she swiftly swats the softness to Saturn. She slices skin and slithers slanderously, scarring stains into my silver stomach.

I am the seed
Breathed from the lips
of an unknown read.

I am the rain
Come from a lock
of an unquenchable shame.

I am the true reach
for the last
Blistering leech
I am the word
of which your tongue
will never taste.

Do not put me
to waste.


Bite me…
Breathe me…
FEEL
MY BLOOD

Let it heat you.
Let it breath you.

Until your Flame      becomes a flood.

A  night time blue
Playing tricks on my tongue
With the raspy echo
of breath,
Turning with my cheek and into
It's nose again.


A shallow hymn of loneliness
Satisfies my heavy head.


Heavy with a day's desire
Giving triumph to the night
For in the night,
I die again.

I close my eyes
My heavy eyes
Right to the end of time. But
As any time
It's time again
For might to open wide.

As each lash upon each lid
Had swollen arms
Outreached for decay,
A brightened abyss
Of rightfulness
Leaks forward to the day.

An ebbing pulse of syrupy bees
Illuminating the forgotten namesake
For the sake of acoustic agreement.

FOR THOU SHALL NOT TOUCH

The ebbing pulse
Of syrupy bees.

In the origin of all our sticky swarm
Our namesake is remembered--
As the sticky swarm a rebounding
Reaching
Retracting arm claws--
As our faceless SAKES rebound again.
For the Just in case.