I painted your Myth onto
A cave wall

Until she atrophied

I scribbled our story
With a stick in White sand

And then the Tide.

So long gone,
I see in Dream
Your Face in
Moon Cold night

Your heat on soles

The Harvest of your Hips
With another.

I blame the moon.

Her sinuous rhythm
In tune-
You move to her
*****-
Her Face your Mirror.

My Gravity slips and
We tumble Cold
Into Space

Many things going on around you.
Clothes hang on chairs, littered
Like valves of the heart hang
By cords in diastole
Waiting for blood
What do you care about?

I have too many clothes.

Slept on Thousand
Year deep moss-

Woke with Spring
In the Steppe

Last leaves swept
Pile

Years heaped

Wan smile

I saw the end of the wind
In a loop of time and dreams
For the birth of the benevolent
The love in a balloon's belly button
Between fingertip and string
In the grin of a canned child
Who is a belthead
Who ran through deserts
Among fathers and mirages
To pick up desert and water
To forget the sand and the water

I impregnated the end of the wind
With the cludgel of avarice
My head was bursting in wishes
I would spot demons made of gold
Dancing through the channels of future
Dressed in the loss of real love

I saw the end of love
Amid a chaos of winds
Within the fathers of mirages
Blown through the lips of the flying ones
In a mesh of tunnels
Tunnels are good for the dawn
The people of broken angels recover there
Come into my hug of winds
Deserts and waters belong to the wind
I got love for the luggage of your dreams
Red, round, real, racing, ripe love