Oh! storm,

lovely dark storm

quiet strolling ready

storm, i was about to ask

why you linger on

but that’s a silly question

in the face of mountains

and great wheels

the seated god speaks
punctured, the larynx leaks
glades of green lush
and overflow the breast
heaving muted breath
into our deeper sleep

a gape was slaked,
the throat was shut
but the womb is wide
pattern rejection
corpulent fear
a human, raw cry

my girl is the raven, the seraph's wing
budding from an egg on the windowsill
heralding mysterious ways.
my girl is palm trees deep in hurricanes,
licked in the salt of the North Sea glowing
with the moonbeam, with time.
my girl is the taxi driver smiling with gold teeth
jewels far beyond the thieves, the cops
my girl is MARTA on time every single day
my girl is e v e r y subway on time my girl,
heh, my girl is even the unexpected text
from mom saying I love you, the one you fear
but need not, the wide open april morning the
cat balled up on your ribs, yawning for rays of sun
the mansion for homeless communists, a myth
in person, the magic beans the skeptic doesn't know
what to do with, my girl is here for me,
my girl is a key to many doors she is the key to
t h e door.

You are the movement of ******
in a ******’s body– muffled innards aghast
under dim light, crooked spoons stalling
the atom’s speed to a cigarette drag.
If you’ve come to meet the woman
she is cloud now, a sprout of white melting
into the blues, the infinites--body forgotten
in the wastes of heaven.