There seems to be
     A sea in me,

And my ribcage is beginning to leak.

winter looms on translucent skin
my heart still cries out
for your blue eyes
a whirling
thundering
sea
but i know that once love is lost
and the glass has been cut
hands are better
left drooping
and emptied

i found a love
within myself
that i didn't know was there
but it was filling up like a pool
collecting rainwater
for the droughts to come
and when my throat  was dry
i didnt plead for a sip
from your veins, a tangled web,
but instead
i swam inside my stomach
curling fingers around
dancing seaweed
finding all that i needed
existed
between the tiny pulses
growing louder
with each realized
moment.

the moon hung like
a bulb in the sky
the windows were broken in,
gaping holes in the buildings,
hollow eyes
no longer weeping.
the air was gritty
and we stood huddled sharing a
smoke.
a man nearby waved about and screamed
tormented by demons
that nobody could see-
just a frothing mouth
reeking of *****
and i felt sad
thinking of
fragility

I want to hold your hand rather desperately.

Many times I've circled the solar system,

And as I age the colors fade. My world is old to me,

The magic leaks away.

The oppressive thoughts crowd and clutter,

Corporate Slavery takes president over fairy houses and tree climbing.

So when I see the world through the eyes of a lover,

It's as if I am a child again.

The pain has been washed away.
The monotony of this old world belongs to the true adults.

I'm light as a child, and free as a bird.

Through the face of my lover I see the whole world.

I guess that's what love is.
What love's meant to do.

Make us see the beauty again. Hear the music, feel the breeze, wish to soar,

Maybe it gives us wings to try.

And even the pain. The shattering of a beating heart.

The pain is potent
and real
and beautiful.

It's a child's emotion. Raw and important. We need it.
We need it to remind us that we aren't stone,
we are bodies that heal and regrow and adapt every day.

Lost souls, last words, Separation and the prayer for reconnection.

Kisses and being held, Feeling safe in the arms of another.

Being seen as a soul of purest light.
Staring into the eyes. Two bodies, one universe.

Makes me feel small and safe. Like a child again.
Being loved unconditionally.

Pink confused with white
flowers and flowers reversed
take and spill the shaded flame
darting it back
into the lamp’s horn

petals aslant darkened with mauve

red where in whorls
petal lays its glow upon petal
round flamegreen throats

petals radiant with transpiercing light
contending
              above
the leaves
reaching up their modest green
from the ***’s rim

and there, wholly dark, the ***
gay with rough moss.

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens

You sullen pig of a man
you force me into the mud
with your stinking ash-cart!
Brother!
            —if we were rich
we’d stick our chests out
and hold our heads high!
It is dreams that have destroyed us.
There is no more pride
in horses or in rein holding.
We sit hunched together brooding
our fate.

                Well—
all things turn bitter in the end
whether you choose the right or
the left way
                            and—
dreams are not a bad thing.