it's already been written myriad-
the elusive verse,  
felt numerous
by others
dimensions parallel to mine

it's why we do
it isn't
it?

but what of
the depleted word bank?
slowly drained like blood so
precious with only
silver floating plasma left
ethereal, just synonyms and
consonants still clinging
to the edges of the canister


what will I say-
when nothing else remains?

sharp lines work their  way
through my veins
run the labyrinth to my heart-
a spiky, futile, mercurial art.

where I dance in spirals unknown
pondering the number of steps down from my throne
crown of thorns, I'd never wear
rather, I dare Delilah to cut my hair.

plucked at the web, spoke you your lies
Atruistic voice, the most formidable disguise
my chameleon dance done, Exit Stage Left,
Dear little Psyche, still on the run.

title goes here
fingers go here

I fixed the sharp
you forced the flat
don't forget to
tighten the strap

hammer the note
bar it with a snap

but with
all these notes
clouding the air

I
can't hear
where we're really at.

don't go to bed angry
don't go to bed scared

go to bed strong
because the world's not fair.

stepping beside myself
slipping sideways

leaving
my soul
by the fireside, to watch the
coals lose their heat

being a shadow that
only cats see

is that what it's like
to go to
Sleep?

You were home once.
I was too, for a while
looking for the light left on.

and in my heart, in the
dark
the wick sat still
waiting to be nurtured into
flame.

I bathed it in wax and protected it
from the wind.
I waded through the storm.

open the box of matches, now.
get the logs set.

I see you standing near trees,
wanting for tinder,
straining through the gloom
calling that you're out and need
the oil.

as the twigs crunch under my weight
I hold my breath and beg you to
check at your feet.
for starters are numerous.

But you bumble in the dark,
searching for my face so you can
meet my eyes.

As I find your fingers, under mine,
willing to let the bark slip through
I wonder if you'd freeze,
if I didn't help
you.

kick your legs like...
coy tilt
to your hips just...
that, yeah.
hold it-

Now...
bite the red
lip, flash
your eyes.
hair curled into
an unlikely peak...
pointed toes align.

Oh,
*****-ish Skin,
slick and soft
I wish I could
wear you more often
but like so many
in disguise
the mystique thins
if viewed repeatedly

instead I will
keep myself in
a closet of
seduction and pull
out my pinup on
a rainy day.

the glitter and stars
will keep the gloom
away.