distant water rides rocks twists a sway from sky
early mist covers a way leaves drip some of it's wet
wait, Sun's heat will appear chasing water home

gentle rising on
a hillside
lift for above

west wind on
sermons
guilt from above

raptor in eerie
scours
feeds high above

crows in white
collars
preach of the above

song gives wings
to charm an above

candle flicks orange
selflessly spits
and pop: pale pips

when

juice trapped in petroleum
wax hits heat and fires to
make mists in light

a cotton thread

( points vapours )

stutter the
dark:
yellow

the lights lets me see

fractions of tar smell
sweetly pink in the
Valor heater.
pressed from thin metal
a bomb
damped by ribbon squab

(broad vapours)

starve the
cold:
red air

all weaves shrink as the
smoke, a fake evaporate,
journey's to the clouds

oceans churn the sky

dragging

latent

potent

tainted toxic

down as cold water

dense particles slugged on salt

stagger the mill up to **** on

radiance and radical upset

in gardens touched softly

in gardens washed away

in gardens a draw to clay to rock

until fissures filter feed the spring

fibres line up:make rope
they cross for cloth
tall sheds:weave of rope
into a net
knitted holes
some much in
the in-between

thread hangs dewy bright
oxidized aluminium contrasts
grey glassy grey

crumpled in doorway a song
through whiskers licked
yellow and smoke flecked
black ash.

notes
float
coats the space
between a boy
silver bits
(remnants of magic cards move
moving Mother)
from pocket to pocket

"silver linings, eh "

scaffolding reached a little higher
and somehow mucus trails
had a musical movement

noise and confusion front
centre of pure light
rolling grey mass obscures
it
mills white into frequency
that has peaks touching
lows
it
steals night pricked into
spectral stall spaced out
on god labels and sci-
gobbledygook
so
dreamers can dance
fragile hearts into hope
lies

grey is white
rainbows are gold
names are cures

passionates lean hard
fragments that lore's
peddle as jigsaws
boxed with image
of whole

complex puzzles rattle
the futility of :

cover
whole and virtuous

open
inside is the same : broken

fix
me


(no bits missing
the grey is my underside)

frustration until
completion then
frustration with
maintenance of
completeness

(Back in the box)

reality reels results in
fondness for familiarity
played on
simpler puzzles

when we knew the shapes
by touch
and we put ourselves together
in the dark