So rich and red
was the blood
when I cut my tongue
on an expression of love

A plane
A pane
so much and so little
separate the two
he and she
they and them
it's all a mirror
of many facets
each sees the other
and themselves
together yet apart
if they could but reach forward
touch skin to skin
glass on nails
so they'd see
their bent reality
unfold
in one whole

I see you there
through a fold in the treelike
I learned today
that you are stationary
yet I see you there
slowly creeping
here

Bay
I've always liked that
furry trim of yours
the one made of wood
it seems to be
leaning in expectantly
watching your movements
with a loving wonder
I hear it traps bad things init
and holds you on course
A retainer of twisted old spires

Bay
there is a light
streak in you
is it a scar?
Does it hurt?
It looks as though
something moved through you
or under you
leaving
such a stark reminder
that refuses to move with your currents
or maybe there's just
something missing?

I don't share this view
Not with anyone I know
maybe I have my
pen and journal
but as alive as they are
they're just dead things
so really
I'm lonely

lift me up
I want to touch clouds
from your golden wings
they'll melt in the rain
but the fall
will be worth the ecstasy