There is a brush stroke in the sunrise,
A pencil line around moon.
There's a bar code in your eyes,
But we never notice it too soon.

I strike the keys, and the letters appear,
But the words don't strike a key in here.
Or turn a phrase, and it's been this way
For minutes, hours days and days.
I long to feel the mystery
Of my own words
Turning the keys,
Opening rooms in me.

Slip
And there it goes,
My heart skips, and my eyes close.
I see the sky, my body jerks, my hands reach out
But nothing works, It all slows down.
Right now, speeds up,
Ground,
Ow!

Lover, Slide between me
And what I could be
And keep me comfy
Asleep and warm
Zeal brings great harm
You have me charmed.

Purpose is the thing between amazing and now,
And somehow I find that I am now the in between.
The seen and unseen not in the darks hold,
Held in the folds of fog, because I want to be light.

I remember as a kid
I would lie with my face next to a bed sheet,
And the closer I slid,
The wrinkles became waves and I imagine a desert of dunes and heat.

Or pull close to a wall below a window sill,
And press myself right up against it until,
All I could see was the edge with the light outside like a beacon.
And imagine I was trapped from a fall in a canyon .

The thing about imagining you're small is you feel more alone than you actually are.
The space between is the same, it just seems bigger.
Because you're more out of reach.

You held my hand as we walked on the shore.
Beyond the sand you're not here anymore.
You towered warm, like the sun over the sea.
Now the storm swarms over , cold waves smother me.
You breathed me in when we kissed and laughed.
Now I'm screaming but just bubbles float past.
Bubbles on the shore.
We're not here anymore.