your lips touch mine, a simple revelation
that begins a revolution
walls crumble
guards stumble
as you fumble for the key
you open me and see
that I am no longer who I used to be

you found the door
that leads straight to my core
and because of you I can love like never before

so now that I've moved on from all that has been
I plead to you, baby, kiss me again

The tips of my fingers yearn
to read the brail of your bumps
as they rise to my touch.
I am chilled
a warmth radiates through your skin.

Each awkward and imperfect curve of my body
conforms so precisely to yours
all is blurred
but the raging of our heart beats.

I crave you, though I do not know who
far from perfect, I am too
do you seek me
I have quested for you
for now we stand undone, in two.

A Stirring biomass, a grim river
Garrotted by mud and each rusted carcass
Dumped over the slow years -
'And we saw the metal of a woman,
A frothy corruption, naked and open,
we prised her from the mire, and saw the city
through the eyes of the sewer,'
The Lady from sludge,
your toady skin broke
as you flopped, nymph-like on board

Caved-in by the tumbling sky,
And air like leather. Dry in the throat.
The sweating walls spun his head,
And the cogs whirred to fast
To bite back. Space and time-blind,
He turns to the sepia city.
Like new life,
ready for the fall of man.

Through the river of time elapsed,
Churning up memory.
And there's the glitz, the cracking lips.
that bet on goodness.
'I remember being a girl - and my mother -
smiling but never sad -
I waited for her every morning'.

The forgotten root scratches out life
Underneath vast and forgotten hangers.
The lungs of the city shed their skin
To keep pace with the smog.
See what we all don't know.
And live where we all can't see.
He led her to a room with broken windows
and one swinging bulb,
She wasn't scared.

Dank Amazon.
the roots are wires,
sprawling for grip for the sulking trees
In the great ape eco-system
'I'm a cruel joke, don't you see?'
As her eyes slowly rolled.
'I'm sorry'
As her fists unclenched
'Im Sorry'
As her knees went limp
'I'm Sorry'

Belted by un-silent night
And below gridlocks of light
An I.C.1 male is being chased
By screaming vans, run rabbit
Down the hole and off you go.
And the hiss of 'one eight seven,
one eight seven' from the radio,
is scoring his run - as the pools on the floor,
neon-flashed burst open
in a booted shatter.

'And the time went by,
And I looked at your form
And I looked at your cuts
And you are the river
And one of its secrets, un-watered'.

Let me introduce him.
half smile and half manipulation
He will take you out to fancy dinners
and then pinch your inner thigh under the table
He will sweep you off your feet
but forget to grab you shoes
Because you see
he doesn't want you to stand on your own
Like an air traffic controller
He is dictating your landings and departures
But all you want is a departure
Warmer skies
And a healthier landing
But he keeps you
Firmly planted on the ground
And then He bribes you with affection
and later handles you with his tongue
But as his hands cover your mouth
And you feel muffled by his presence
you lose yourself
You used to be a rainbow
You used to be seen only in technicolor
Now you're wearing black
submitting to his obsession
your simple lies turn him into a monster
and you're quivering like a child
Scared to put a toe down
Because his anger lurks beneath the bed
holding the blanket close around your neck
You beg for his forgiveness
He calls you his princess
and builds you a tower
But girl it doesn't matter how long you grow your hair
He will find a way to criticize it anyway
And you're bound to pay
I can't satisfy his anger
He hides behind it
Jabbing your sides with little suggestions
That dress is to short
That's a lot of skin
Excuse me *******?
Who's body am I in?
And I don't need a fairy tale
What's it to ya anyway
I'm just a bird with a broken wing
You see I used to have two
One for luck
And the other for navigation
So why is leaving him resound with hesitation
And somedays I dream of a different life
One that's filled with witty repartee
And symphonies
Cellos play sweet melodies
And I take my two wings and fly between the notes
And I float
Catching air
I'm up there
But he takes his water hose and shoots me down
Because he only likes me wet and vulnerable
I think he is catching on
So I turn into sand
And taking a fistful he squeezes
Jesus
I'm falling through the cracks of his insecurities
And I find myself there
And I dust myself off
And fly

That's goodbye.

And on that beach:

I can still remember the night.

Last night of summer,
not vacation,
summer.

Footsteps of the old man
and his son left on the beach,
a dead bonfire cackling
as the wind hushes it sweetly,
the moon chipping in to sing it a lullaby.

Last night of warmth,
my final chance.

I can still remember the paths I walked,
the roads I took,
intertwined to lead me to the ocean.

Navigating my way through the nearly cool country dark,
just to feel a tingle,
something cool over my body.

Barefoot,
tangled tendrils.

Stronger,
they say.

Baby pink bra and
no underwear.

Faster,
they say.

Caught
between childhood and yearning.

Shivers
racing up
and down
my spine
anticipating the final taste of summer.

Silky sand
between my toes.

Heather grey boxers,
a white tank top
sliding off
my shoulder.

Harder,
they say.

The moonlight
simply glancing over
my alabaster skin.

My long locks
tied
at the nape of my neck.

Secrets pouring
out of each crack.

A tear hidden in my
right eye for the
moon.

A joyous drop of
sadness.

Cheap fabric
tossed over my head.

Clothes abandoned on the shore.

I wade,
the light from morning just off in the distance,
as if I could reach
out my hand and
touch the fading crescent
inhabiting the sky.

Alone in the ocean,
water glazing my bare body,
natural with all its imperfections.

A moment of recklessness,
at home in my own,
in a sea.

My final chance
at feeling summer,
before you,
before fall.

I waded.

Falling in love
               with you is like
waking up to bright yellow,
             peeking through sky blue curtains,
warmth caressing  
streaming hair on a soft pillow.
         It is subconscious smiles from
                 lulling visions & the murmur
of loved ones in the living room on Sunday.
         Loving you is the wafting scent
                  of your favorite blueberry pancakes
                           & the crackle of meat on a griddle,
        the peace of an afternoon
                      surrounded by loved ones—
                                 half-awake & still dreaming.