Onoma 3h

Love gone wrong's like
air-dropped light dead
to its sun, a retarder
of body language.
Can you read this
decorous purple?
I need you to break
thru, call dibs on my
lone planetary routine.
Then we'll get skin
right, we'll cry about
how good it feels to
attach boundaries.

Onoma 3h

If you're not the doer--
then how can you sow
karmic seeds?
By believing you're the
doer.

Onoma 16h

Lately, it's as if feathers
are freer than wings,
and flight is more than
airy height.
It feels more like the
perfect confidence of
life, asking death if it
would die for it.
Death asking life if it
would live for it.
Feathers seem to gather
for wings of that magnitude,
beating through the ground
as much as the sky.

Onoma 2d

Your gilded paces
in darkness, wore
like diamond necklaces
heaped round a dead
queen.

Onoma 2d

freshly minted leaves
cognizing warmth as
earthen birthmarks
of shade.

who's ready to float on
slideshows of deepening
color?
whose ready to feel what
that might mean this year?

crowns have been placed
amidst the tangled outreach
of boughs.
beauty is an awesome
responsibility.
few are dying of.

Onoma 2d

So here's the mature
expression of a catch
flopping on deck.
Who could bear the
promise of more, from
where this one came?
Grin, multitudinous and
mawkish--an ungraspable
slick silver verse stuck to
puckering lips.
A face grown flat, by roles
played in common waves,
eyes placed for scanning
both sides of the sea.
You've even succeeded in
making Jesus seem fishy.

Onoma 4d

once there's ash
what's left to split
in twain?
hands will not doubt
what's too late for
giving.
waste is the ruddied
stock footage of a
setting sun.
we will be forced to
watch.
begging to give with
both hands.

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