i couldn't tell you where
but she was surfing on her own
salty water in her hair
and a ribcage full of stone

the windsongs speak
their tales of change.
lean in close, they tell you, come
listen. to the robin's nest
and the fire's glow and
the baby's breath.
lean close, they whisper, don't
miss them. don't
parry. don't boast. don't
brood in the light of mourning.
they summon, they taunt you. come
kiss them.

and the foxtrot leaves a trail of haste.
is it honest?
is it spiteful? does
the lamb's ear sing its
hymn of sorrow? does
the boy cry wolf in the dead of night?

lean toward fear, they tell you.
you listen.

Wisdom carved in stone
is lost / what we know we know
under an accumulation of moss

The animal wakes
in you, when moon cries.
I bend to lift the sun.

Blood has no Dharma.
I sit as an amber fossil.The
ripple in dust will not take it.

I am worrird about you.
The mating between words
gets ready to fight stigma.

silk through my hands
life running through my veins
tongues of fish flying past
small rocks off the river bed
and feeling worries run of to the sea
feeling fish worry free
feeling burden rub off on rocks
and the water crystal clear with pure truth
clear like the sky
without a worry I run like a river

Do you ever imagine
      you've lived this day
long ago

only under the beveled glass of a dream,
and now,

you're just going through

      the motions using muscle memory?