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Life energy
Forever a flow
Do you see that?
Right there,
A glow
Have no fear,
We are here.
Together as one
Three armed beast.
Embraced by shadows
Tentacled appendages
Fractaling  in
forever outwards.
Subconscious in the air
While Devils and Divas
Dance out of my head
Petrified by the dark and unknown
Tall cloaked figures
Round fat men
Nixon grins
Her hair, the fire of life,
Lips, silk brushing against your body,
Curves of an hourglass,
The beauty of a fairytale princess,
Gentle as a soft Summer breeze,
The kindness of a Saint,
Thee grace of an angel,
Childish joy,
My Love,
My Katie.
 Dec 2012 Michael Sinclaire
Her blush becomes him.
Streaming through shutters;
Wide open, within walls of waking dreams.
He desires, her darkest night.
Door 3,
of the Advent
for Yule-Tired Man x
I felt like a giant
Holding fireworks in his fists
Fuses burning between my knuckles
I could silence the bang if I wanted to

Inside your chest are bibles
Full of psalms about hunger
And love
And letting go
Psalms about selfless
I want to kiss you like a prayer

******* like a prayer

I am small
And I feel the ground breathe beneath my feet
It is dark

I am a marble with a green cat eye center
Still hot and smooth
The glass blower that made me had asthma
I don’t roll like the rest of them
This dent in my chest
But you decide it is a good place to rest your head

You feel like the ocean
When I am sleeping on a raft
I made from fallen trees and rope
A steady rock just past the wave break
So calm I’m sure I could sail safely
As far as I wanted

I feel like I don’t exist
Like I am unicorn horn glitter
After the slaying
The men who have ground me down
Use me to sell toys to kids
Because glitter makes everything magic

I am magic
Clumsy magic
Like a giant learning sleight of hand
Fireworks in his fists
I could stop the bang if I wanted to

I don’t want to
I am hot glowing color
Falling from the palms of a giant
Whose hands are clouds

Someone has just prevented a car accident
Saved someone’s life
There are fireworks
A celebration

I am rubber kneecaps
For people who collapse
I bounce them back
People who don’t pray anymore
They just keep walking

I feel like a slave song
The simple message
When you sing these words
I can do anything

I feel like a giant

And I want to kiss you like a prayer
That stops someone from dying
It's not because I don't love you,
I do.
But you see
it always starts out the same.
I learn about you from a friend
when he tells me your name,
how much he loves you,
all the wondrous things you say
and that I need to get to know you;
The next time I visit that friend,
you're there.
I try to play cool,
desperately trying to hide
how much I really care.
But inside I'm pulsing,
unable to think of anything
except when can I get you alone
when can I make you sing.
After all I've heard so much about you;
hated by those that don't matter
and loved by those that do.
So when it's time for me to leave
you come along without hesitancy
at home we get to know each other,
when your arch your spine for me
like you did for your last lover.
I hint at deep intentions
when I ask you to move in;
promising nights in each others arms,
my love and undivided attention.
“I have room for you in my life”
I'll say,
but despite this all
I still might give you away.
It's not that I won't miss you
when you're gone,
the problem is I'm a traveler;
a vagabond.
I move on,
and on and on,
frequently meeting new faces
that hold a wonder for truth;
and they remind me of me
the me before you.
And so,
my darling,
it isn't that I don't love you,
I do.
But I've met someone new,
and this someone needs you.
on the steps of an old house sits a bright boy
(his hands are full of sleeping and flowers are)
he is in the summer a bit and there he is
sitting a bright boy on pale steps with his hands
full of sleeping and flowers are carefully and
he plucks each from and each from he plucks
their petals on the old steps of a house in
the hot pash of sunlight sits a bright boy, who
Don't go to Alaska

I think the mountains will pierce your eyes
and the wind will kiss your neck
I'll melt glaciers of ink for you

Don't go to Alaska
You're far too sentimental
I never knew or thought or felt like
my body was eternal like a cloud
I held my hand in my hand and waved sloppily

I am beating a drum hard as a heart
or like soft tissue perhaps that you
wrap around a vein or something
I am skinborn and boneborn and hairborn

Just water and air I guess
lined up so I can look at  the
sky and wish it was below me
or within me

Kite-tongued or painted-lipped I thought
maybe my face my head was above my body
against ice or seafoam like a pulse
but I held onto my teeth and nose and eyes for so long

Dagger-ribbed or bullet-spined
moving on a field of nothing
like a field of something while
while my matter is so simple and nothing

— The End —