David Bowie’s voice was like a race car bed to me
To take me back in time, when we were only seventeen
Sprinklers in the summer air, my feet on muddy ground
Turn into ***** bottles as I scream without a sound

Rachel’s cabin in the woods was a race car bed to me
A lovely little paradise that brought so much to see
The outside world did not exist, when I was with you there
We kissed inside the living room with flowers in our hair

And now I find that there is not a race car bed for me
Nowhere else to turn to in my grand attempt to flee
Fears that hunt me down like prey have chained me here to die
A grown up bird, so limitless, but too afraid to fly

I thought it was written in the smoke
That extinguished all our jokes
Filling air as we both choke
On the firing line

And when it was seven until
I headed out west for the hill
And I threw up those pills
Without saying goodbye

But still I will always return
Like I want to get burned
In a love I’ve unearned
For the rest of our time

I thought it was written on the wall
That had cushioned my fall
From the blowback assault
From the one wanting you

And when I gave up on the bridge
I remembered your kiss
And I swore off that *****
As I stumbled away

my love, you wear silence like a coat
and i am left drifting like a far-out wave.
the wind tangles leaf and sky.
winter is barely noticed, the moon
is a ghost of forgotten flowers where
the night sings to the starry waters,
sings of our love. everything is sailing
like a ship in a bottle, a kaleidoscope  
of brightness, gothic hill and wildflower
ruin, flowing like a silvery stream.
do you dream of me? do you burn when
the night wraps you in her cloak and the moon
unwinds the waters of the seas?
do you dream of me?

a bird slid into the wind's
bright paths, awoke
the sound of morning, the
only elegant sound. i sprinkled you
you with the roots of the rain and
with a song sweetened by
sunlight and although you were stunted
and your blue-blossom wings were broken,
and the very earth swam in dark
floods of tears, that little piece of
love was a kingdom as reachable
as your hand touching mine.

this was a song that lingers in caverns and
caves, scented by sea rose and anemone,
lost kingdoms where we dream of the sea.

this was a song like a whale shivering
through the water, diving into the
impossible dark, with its huge tail
waving, flag-like and star-hungry,
its skin the moon's lips, in a world
with no moonlight, no brightening pools,
and only echoes of a forgotten sun.

how deep do we dive, seals of ink
and overtures of unanswerable
dark? our eyes have been betrayed
many times and the water buries us
whole, takes us to the staccato rhythms
of a ghostly tide, takes us back to
a womb woman whose prayers lie
like whispers on the water, who tells
us to hush and we hear our mother's voice.

these are wild notes that press into the
waves, and i am frightened of this song,
it is dissonant and gathered from the
rivers of night, her tombs overgrown with
wild flowers and the bones of the sea,
and she cries for the lost,
for those that were taken from her,
and she will cry for all eternity
and her tears are like breath of ice.

The heart has laws
that transcend those
of the highest courts
and leave the latter's in woeful throes.