A little white ball, misshapen, waiting, on the floor.
Waiting for me. For how long, I couldn't say. Though I'm quite certain every so-called decision I've made in my life has led me to this very moment of noticing. Noticing a ball of cotton, waiting for action, from me.
The eternity I fall into after merely seeing it, is sufficient.
Bones sliding amid muscle, to bend, and there is no foreground, no background, no debt, no ex, no somethingness, no nothingness.
All comes to this,
to this non-action.

I retrieve it.

My ego finds its foot in the door.
And I don't quite whisper
to the little ball of cotton,

"That I might die with
a trace of humility,
that much even."

She, was very attractive.
I was a bet, very safe.

Ego and fear
are the poorest
foundations.

Married,
but never
engaged.

now, how long shall i
fake the dance,
and let the life pun
circumstance?
consider it luck
the fools i get to note?

my God is one
of humor, see
he plays such lovely...
     melodies
the scherzo-His, is one
i know by rote

the users feign
their words, His name
and lie to sheep
to push their fame
but Hell has little holes
in which to writhe

for He does see
it makes me smile
as they do jig
their wares awhile
the jokes on those who'll
burn for money'd piles

I close one eye now
to focus things close.

Somehow,
I've grown older than you,
though not outgrown you.

I'm no river.
I am the sand.
And you, merely the ocean.

And in no way now,
might we ever help each other.

I close one eye now,

just one.

Retrain the knife.
The mind it sweeps,
The velveteen,
With focals deep.

So sweet, the lay,
The houred beats.
So cut the day,
Without retreats.

Now chase your bliss,
With lust for life.
With hit and miss:
Retrain the knife.

you bought it all,
even the taxes.

why would you think
you could rest?

no reason to soften the blows now.
you're locked in. set to love your fate.

a cacophony, and I had to look it up, in your head.

you needn't tidy the swamp. the visitations are waning.

the little dots,
the little dots,
the clever tasks
of hit-me-nots,

the flavor chase
of over-cradle tones,


      the rounded bore,
the tasted lore,
the keenest sweet
of evenscore,

the purgey smile
of freshly-rattled bones,


      will leave us here,
with blanketsmear,
the slowest breath
of hold-me-dear,

though room reverbed
with slender, ghosted moans.


      the little dots
of eyelid knots
will crest and lumber
sandy cots,

we roll the night
like sunny,

              bleaching,

                                  stones.

you're knots,
you're feathers,
you're tall-stones and rings

no longer the cleverly low

the ****,
the burn,
and memorly things,

the mooniest shadow of snow


you raced,
you lost,
you learned the cost

your being, a needley find

as a shed
for rust,
love-oxides trust,

and your Evers is oxygen pined

Don't forget this time.
As hard as it is,
It'll pass.
Don't forget this time.
It's purpose
Was meant to last.

Don't forget these days.
They're hard beyond "shoulds",
I know.
Don't forget these days.
They're set
To see you grow.

Let the melody stick.
Let the melody play.
They'll soon be a pile of yesterdays.

Let the melody stick.
Let the melody play.
It'll all help you find a gratitude, for
Tomorrow's...

"Today"

You didn't leave
      the way
          you thought you did.


             I realize.


Thus

     I move through,


                    instead of on.

look at you twist, what?
like the moon?

your thoughts don't even
belong to the trees, (and you swoon?)

restless enough, for caterpillars,
you tread nothing.

deepen the lines, luv.
larks are for trespassers,

dump the lot.

your hair nearing my face,
I'm a jumble of nerves,
you turn and you
whisper like cats

I wonder my stance
and I backpeddle curves,
your clothes are your
skin under glass

my most favorite paralyze,
my most favorite still,

this eternity's
your hand on my arm

You're not the bobble that I left,
Just the healing I forget,
Just the hook.
You're not the line,
You're not the tow.

You're not the hours that I sleep,
Just the darkness of the deep,
Just the book.
You're not the turn.
You're not the close.

Will I walk?
The tempers rise.
And at my best, the heater dies,
Becoming breath,
By easy dance,
One with the field.

Of mirrored love,
And ego cries,
Feel buried truth as sown to rise.

A letting go,
As water flows,
Become the Yield.

feathery coontscounce on
the puck for playing.
a lavender make-up for rest.

the lack that you love
isn't empty bar-taking,
you fever the fount as it's bent.

you're lucky, you're karma,
you are what you're clinging,
you're love as it's breaking

you're Stress

Shave the shades!
You @#cking lachrymonster!
Didn't you see the trees??!!

I weighed the pain,
You upperclip LossTare!
I fretted the beryl's leads.

So, go spend your fendshares,
And leave the leaving,
To those who've found the need!


I'll not retrace,

Your burns again.

You are nervous
      beetled
                      Greed.

i am the like of you
you're the here of me too
i'm the constance between
you're the love me unseen

i'm the felt top left fence
you're the bareness repents
i'm the take true to leave
you're the endless receive

we're the crawl into two
we're the space that we knew
we're the crashing aboves
we're the pundits of love

Be the bend-far, rooted queen,
Narcolepted upswing.
Be the effervescence,
Be the
                 clock
                             wise
                                          swirl.


Do the summ'ry new cling,
Green finger, rotten ring.
   Do the only-Evers,
Do the
                  thick
                              turn
                                         world.


     stammer-toothy
         diddelack-a-span clean

I love your
                           little hands-
I love your little hand
                                                springs.


                        (one, two)

                                 (one)



Be the guard in black.
Be the curvature stacked.

       Be my woman.

              Be the turn.

              
                               Be
                                       love.

I'll ******* for tuppence,
And fear-base your thrill.
You'll breathe for my coming,
And brace for the ****.

You'll love your own bindings,
And pray for the kneel.
You'll disregard switchstance,
And grow as you heal.

You'll lust for constriction,
And beg for release,
But only as my smile,
Known be found in your pleads.

You learn nearly daily,
So I oft pat your head.
This wondrous new pet,
Now soft purrs in my bed.

there will be
only a shallow,

pleasured connection
til you learn
to tie the knots of my youth

into something new
and your own

or until,

you can teach me
to burn 'way the noose.


I found
on my own
with a struggle-pack demon

that the years never pass
with abuse,

so let's
'eye to eye'
with a love-wagered reason

and baggage all this kink

into use.

What comes of compulsion?
The turn-sound of breakthrough.
I yearn for such things without ought.

A misstep for healthy,
But a need so fulfilled that
I bask in the warmth of these knots.

Thus, collar me snugly.
I'm yours through our ending.
First unsure, in this trap, what you'd caught.

Acknowledge this weight, please.
The 'anythings' fill me.
Entangled in rapturous locks.

dont want do nuthing

asylum in stead

smile at pendewlum

as it striking my head


with itchies so passing

i roll down my sleaves

as tree stuck in No Spring

i want
take my leaves

Talk to me friendly,
And as though we have met.

The angels are giggling,
And some without regret.

Talk to me tongue tied,
Or till blue in the face,

Hand in hand converse,
Thougts in embrace.

There is a girl from the Sun,
Of substance and wit,
Who, I'd like to know better,

And love.


She ankles the grieving
Dark knights of the soul.
She deepens belief

In Aboves.


She nerves me with giftings,
And words, 'that's so sweet'
But it's fruitless, it's no-go,

It's lack.


So I, thumb-twiddler patient,
Sail out round complacents,
I write of her, and dream,

As I tack.

She savors it sweetly,
The knowledge: he's watching.
She smiles at the lock of his sight.

His pride tries to warn him,
"Such endeavors will burn you."
Thus, he wrestles the strength of her night.

He searches through tangles,
He rifles through reason.
He pulls at the knots in his might.

"Relax, little one,
This will all soon be over,
Though enjoyed is the show of your fight."

You can't tell now,
And don't ask how I know
But I promise
My bones are blue.

I've not been a fish
For thousands of years,
A near past though as
Sailor and whale.

Treading stones like a quake.

We've dipped so recent, so well.
Ache rests like a sinner
With naught to do.

I'll return again, indeed.
But not till you've seen

Just as I promised,
That my bones are blue.

i am destructed,

    a coiled infant
     waiting for response,

i want it as secret no longer


keep me instructed,

        such toiled nonsense,

                  submitted, well-blinded, and stronger



       can it be merely lust?

                   the warm, hellish stone says no.


i do as i must,

              please You and sink,  un-

      til you let me go.


                                                           ­           
                                                     ­           throw me as hard as You can,

                                      dark hair, we're friends,

                         and,


i
     am


destructed.

i shoot my dinner
and rinse the glass
my patience waits
for overpass
i'll have a second
    just to rush the hour

i love my life
well, parts at least
that lonely lust
doth shape the beast
that finds me at the mirror
    feeling sour

i everspan
my thanks in true
such luck i've had
in finding you
i grovel seed
    while you so gather flowers

i'll rule my world
expressive here
but catch you not
your soul so dear
   to me
              it seems
     so useless
                 are my powers


the lucky me
            the lucky me
   i see desire
                           the  lucky me

down isn't what
you think it.

the way the sun don't
go 'round us.

misdirected on a hit
(fucky little bullet-dodger)

we ripe for nothin',
curse-tailing the spit-shines.

just back-and-forthin',
back-and-forthin',

till the burden
drop, till the sun-

she gone.

'think'

skipsome-
skipsome-
skipsome-

(rest)

I
could have learned

to breathe
a long time a go.

(note)

A lorry spins quickly
on a road just wet,

(save,   )

and the never's just a
five letter no.



       drinksome-
    sleepsome-
thinksome-

(rest)

There isn't any you,
there wasn't any me.


     And a lorry spins ever
on a road still wet.


               wet,

wait,


                                      wet.

Won't you pull at my tongue,
With my jaw slamming shut?
That double-edged wit of regret.
Won't you blank out my mind?
These signed waivers of time.
No muse would I more happily bed.

She had worked five days that week,
not to mention all that needed tending to
in regard to house and children.

But now, save the soft leak
of birdsong through windows,
the house was quiet and still.

She felt a laziness
in body and mind,
and allowed it.

She found herself on the bed,
giving the woven blanket purpose
as it held her, giving her warmth.

There was no concern for
how long this moment would last,
nor for how much rest might be gained.

There was only
presence, breath,
and allowance.

I'm not ready to feel you.
I'm not ready to know.
So I'll make wordy rhythms,
That I shove into poems.
I'll think that I'm clever.
And hope that you'll smile.
I'll shrug with, "no muse here",
But write all the while.

I wake to remember
my sunroof is open.
I wake to leave words on the path.

I wake like a gardener
illiterate in Nature,
who nonetheless prays for the math.

The Solemn shows Wicked
the chess pieces burning.
a light that gives fuel is its task.

I wake just to tell you
my sunroof is open.
My words, as the rain's, not to last.

engage me
low-late,

little tongued Leaf,
now the pocket's
in the shade
in the den.

i'm the length
of a dream,
on a left-hand path,


you're the dots
in the ink

we're the When

"such a tiny thread"
she said,
"the willow barks
and masker's head",
she clearly doesn't
understand the rules

"I want the keener
finding me,
I want the faces
fathom-free"
though sets her sights
on deepest of the fools

"I'll spin until
you see again,
the moon and wind
like us, are friends,
the tempest shore
is what connection fuels"

her freedom swings
my lack in time
"I'm your dove
as you're my rhyme"
I clearly just don't
understand the rules

deadpan,

    fix the light
       in the hall.


slowscan,

    take a flight
       reap a fall.


longstand,

    shorten sight
       drop the call.


wait the rain
    wait the rain
    
           wait the rain

That there won't be another
is no longer what it was.

I knew the you you were
though now know what I've become.

The thorns of roses faded,
the salt of oceans dried,
allude to consolations:

to what was our love tied...

I'll call you out politely,
Our friendship can withstand.
The criticisms helpful,
Not complimented backhands.

We'll open up the eyes of,
Each other, and the world.
We'll walk the truthspeak, aiding,
Through tangled, loving curls.

drink to this, lipless,
"'rotten' isn't what you think",
you tarry the borders in white.

you glisten like factory,
you tremble like gold,
you're edging the ready to fight.

your countenance silver,
your wrangle-send wet,
my finger, your jawline, the light.

I miss what you were.
  You forget who you are.

        Euclidean.
                          
               Forgiven.

  And right.

the shrouds are soiled,
without defense,
the curdled salve is laid.

no time is spent
without pretense,
the just of karma's paid.

we wallow in,
and swallow shouts,
with efforts all but flayed.

so born to age
through wrestling bouts,
and expressions left unplayed.

Having worn a pair of similar shoes.
In your pushing the Sun to set.
So redefine "My Possibles".
This day is not for debt.

The red brick crack and record scratch,
Don't yet reset for morn.
In blood, and sight, and wants unskewed,
Are happenings ever-born.

you are stranger than me,
but only
to others,
you cradle my facets
with silk

you're the waver of tone,
you deafen
and smother,
but just as they parallel
my will


you're my taunt's
favorite tease,
you're my ten millionth please,
you're my predator
unable
to ****


you're the rest
of my thoughts,
and my unhindered oughts

you're the shine,
and it's moon,


you're the still