She seeks God in the river where she drowned him
The same one she once tried to cleanse her soul in

Her heart listens to hymns sung by her petrified flesh
While her lovers' lips set the pace of her forgotten faith

She is lost

I followed a thin blue line
between the folds of a map.
I passed by rivers wider than time,
mountains larger than life,
and traveled through valleys
tucked between canyon walls.
I have been from the east coast
of Niagara Falls,
to the west coast
of California's golden shores.
I have seen the Shenandoah River,
explored the Appalachian Trail,
and the Rocky Mountains of Colorado.
I have gazed at those
white capped mountains,
while the sun slowly set behind them,
setting fire to the sky  
with swirling oranges,
yellows, pinks, and reds.
I have fallen in love
with the open road,
with the freedom
of a full tank of gas,
and no destination.
I found my soul on this road,
but I hope to find a place
to bring this soul home.
I imagine a place,
somewhere along California's shores,
where I can rest my head,
and finally start something more.

It's all a preparation for a blow you are intending on.
I've been sailing on high tides and land is near. Will you break the waves in halves or will you raise them to double their size?
Grow or destroy. That is the game. And you are unpredictable, like a sudden storm in the midst of March.
Unpredictable but Harmless.
Harmless.
Therefore, blow in my face spring's breeze. Let me close my eyes and feel your breath on my eyelashes.
I've forever told you you are beautiful, and you forever will be.



- LynnAA

The stars shine bright in the sky
We travel full of wanderlust
The light will guide you and I
Her eyes remind me of stardust

She is quiet like the moon
She keeps her secrets bottled
Her heart is warm like a day in June
Soon her walls will topple

Her happiness is the sun
Her garden is full of roses
Her smile is my favourite one
Her door never closes

She is more than the stars, the moon, and the sun to me
She is the entire galaxy

just call me
easy b
easy does it.
i’m easy like
dot dot dot
(ditching church on a)
sunday morning
head to the ocean
no sun, west coast
BK Joe, morning roast
exposed toes massaged
by millions of miniature rocks.
no hard place
just soft, safe,
in touch with creation
as i listen to nothing
but creation
itself.
don’t make this
difficult.

What does happen in the night?,
where restless youths beg for a fight,
where women with all dignity lost, will sell you their services at a cost,

where men will pay for their hunger to sate and tell their wives they're coming home late, where knowing wives are sat at home, waiting by the telephone, hoping he has done what's right, but that's not what happens in the night.

The children cower in their beds, the fear of the night sat in their heads, imagining monsters, causing fright, but that's not what happens in the night.

The children do not know, why mothers eyes are red, why father is not home, tucking them into bed, but father is still searching for that which will excite, for this is what happens, in the absence of light.