As far as eye can see
the dark and starry firmament
engulfs our world alive
and drinks fire from the suns
wrapped up in itself
as far as eye can see
the vastness is unbound
it takes you in itself
an all-consuming ocean
stretches till no end
as far as eye can see
who are we to seek
what no eye can see?
in silence it resides
embellished like a bride
as far as eye can see
and further than you see
it folds into itself
a dark abysmal well
deeper than itself
as far as eye can see

Thin wisps of rain smoke
whisper through the air above.
Red sparks paint the sea.

Cracked images
Stained glass
Each piece arranged
In an interlacing jaggered masterpiece
Tears fall
Tracing paths
Highlighting the intricate symbols
Liquid crystals in the dying light
Sparkling pearls upon living glass
Dexterous additions
To the visual symphony.

The storm grows
The heavens pour
Colours flash amongst the greys
It tastes like salt.

I want to see you sleeping after
tick-tocking like a wind-up clock all day,
falling like a taut of rope to the bottom of
a canyon to thud down into a pensive pile,
spreading your energy out as a silent spirit
across the dry river bed, the wind of you
whipping up sediments in the vast valleys beneath.

I want to bear witness to you catching my eye
from across the room cautiously,
covering the communion in cadmium lemonade tape,
tasty and afraid of being caught at the crime scene.
I'll throw you a line and you can come up gasping,
glorious and shining in the adolescent sun,
pulling in air where water should come.

I want to watch you write that paper you're working on.

I want to spot you screaming into oblivion,
washing over wonder with waxy fingers,
grabbing at the truth like five year olds ****** fireflies
out of a fleshy, dusk-dipped night
with mothers calling out "Come inside!" in loving, eager fright.

I want your eyes to glimmer something back at me,
meeting me in the cosmos to make the moon,
Mercury slinging stardust over his shoulder,
flirting with Venus and fighting her smolder,
meteorites crashing into each other,
creating solar systems in their wake.

I want to contemplate you on a flat plane,
feeling a frenzy of agitated hands
and fluctuating heart rate,
fault lines moving crazy,
crashing through geologic time
to make earthquakes feel human.

I want to stare at you saying things
that would color me crimson in broad daylight
as we breathe out heavy to the ancient incantations
of an early umber evening.

I want to see you
without a pocket mirror attached to my wrist,
cutting into my skin,
blood purple like lavender iced tea in the summer
and veins an undulating blue.

THIN sheets of blue smoke among white slabs ... near the shingle mill ... winter morning.
Falling of a dry leaf might be heard ... circular steel tears through a log.
***** of woodland ... brown ... soft ... tinge of blue such as ***** eyes.
Farther, field fires ... funnel of yellow smoke ... spellings of other yellow in corn stubble.
Bobsled on a down-hill road ... February snow mud ... horses steaming ... Oscar the driver sings ragtime under a spot of red seen a mile ... the red wool yarn of Oscar's stocking cap is seen from the shingle mill to the ridge of hemlock and cedar.