from deepest rivers you
surging flowers OPEN

              and
                                   A
                                         scar newly
                                         adorns you
                                         beating stillness
                                         immeasurably
                                         in darkness a
                                         light first meekly
                                         begins
                                                         rolling
                                                                        its colours
                                                                                              violently
                                                                                                               beating
                                                                                                                              so
                                                                                                                                        hot
                                                                                                                                                all
                                                                                                                                                         quickness
murdered slowly a plume of bird's
throats fat with music wings splendorous
over bodies rapt in loving fire
a song
            of
                 hearts
                              tattooed
                                              on my arms
                                                                     you note
                                                                                      (in me played
) deepest and fluttering your eyelids
magic springs eternal voluptuous panting
tigers skin an angel in
                                       Sweat
                                                   completely
                                                                        my razor
                                                                                            keenly
                                                                                                          defies
                                                                                                                       a mountain
                                                                                                                                             blade
                            stupidly
                                              i'm stabbed thee with
                                               you
                                                strongly flavored
                                                 lush garden
                                                  of rivers
                                                     deeply flowers surging out my mouth
                                                       a gallon of petals endlessly

The cool slush of tires
rolling over puddles sounds just like
waves falling on waves in the distance.  

As the sound gets closer, as the cars rumble
just out of arms reach,
the white noise from the radios
becomes a gentle breeze.
  
I stretch my leg out,
as if to dip my toes
in the surf. 

The floor beneath me
becomes warm sand
that comes to life -
wrapping around my feet like a blanket
on a cold,
wet
afternoon.  

God,
what I wouldn’t give for a good book
right now.  Anything to pass
the ‘unforgiving minute.’  

Because, just dreaming of waves
isn’t enough.  
The sound haunts me and wakes me from a quiet sleep.  
As they beat a cadence on the
helpless sand,

the waves are a constant reminder of time

and its limits.

Her bare feet slapped against the pavement.
Tulle skirt stuck to her sweaty thighs.
The first drop fell.
Rain came that day.

Arms outstretched, she started to twirl.
Until the footsteps came near.
Out of time with the thunder claps and bursts of light.
She stopped and stared.

He was there.
Drenched in the rain.
Watching.
She laughed and pulled him to dance with her.

Maggots do their work
   so well --
erasing flesh
   and features.
To look upon these
   white, parched bones,
one could never know
how beautiful --
   how divine --
this creature was.
How she walked
under starry skies,
and danced to
   midsummer,
all entranced.
How in spring she
gathered bouquets of
   dogwood --
an orange poppy
behind her ear.
And in winter,
   oh winter,
how this beauty
hid amongst the
   skeleton trees,
with snow all 'round
and dainty hands
in woolen gloves.
But it was in autumn
I loved her best.
The tawny hues
highlighting her
chestnut hair.  
Running through the
   fallen leaves,
and laughing because
she loved life so very much.
Standing beneath
the crimson trees
in a gold-velvet gown,
her eyes sparkling
and the deepest brown.

Maggots do their work
   so well --
erasing flesh
   and features.
To look upon these
white, scoured bones
one would never know
how divine --
   how beautiful --
this creature was.