there are some nights

and some mornings where you just wake up like that

like the moon had gotten under your skin

and fresh hands want to rip it out again.

-

I’m satiated by a knowing deep within my being

resting

as wild thickets burr up from beneath my chest

I don’t know how they got there.

-

As mindless apologies plea for another beginning

I waver upon a life where second chances come too quick

my thoughts thickened with heavy traces

of every foot print ever stepped.

-

He meets me again in the back ground

I wonder why it always comes back to this.

I see stark contrast

skin against pavement.

poles adorned with lights

governing the flow of life

ceaselessly.

I avoid fluorescence

and beg for fleeting glances

Yet I somehow accept

the relevance of belonging

here

momentarily

the slow distant bellow

of a drum beat

As I discover my song.

hop scotch

a writer

pieces

break apart

like letters in words

of a poem to your loved one.

I demand

closure

disclosure

of my insides

rampantly splayed out

across your carpet.

I make myself known,

Uncanny,

flailing out,

released by phrases

set upon a page

I am relevant

only until

relevance is no longer

I am swayed by the ink

by your tongue.

Gasp.

I am not glory

As it all is undone.

Hold on.

To me darling.

As I break apart.

Letters

Of words

Stark.

Like those blank squares.

the sheath, white

coating pale skin

as moonlight discovered

her wholeness

spreading out over the river.

-

the depth, craved intrinsically

like the blood that gave life

beneath her flesh,

was sought after

in the midst of madness

and concrete.

-

She bellowed deep

within a forest

a jungle

her home

feet, muddy and quickened

with a worry of returning

to a stale world.

-

but beyond imagination

she lived there

still.

under the waxing

and waning moon

between the trees

and thickets

against the cool

pull of the river.

And here she gathered

a sense of peace.

“You intricately beautiful, rich, deep, dark thing. Brilliant light and the darkest dark. With stories to tell and emotions to share. Simple and complex, you are the paradox of life made manifest. I love you like I love the ocean or a forest or a sunset. Or the night sky. Leaves changing colour, falling, decomposing, nourishing new life. Fresh young flowers. You are all of these.”

'This too shall pass'

rings through my ears

and sings the present truth

as my eyes begin to well

with something

I was hoping was forgotten.

as the sun sets

we melt beneath the horizon

our ears pressed to the wind,

and eyes to the skyline

our hearts beat rhythmically

under the new moon.

the dawning of a new time,

the sound of an old truth.