Cold morning water lip
Straight-------- swallow---- bury me
Bury
Secret, knowing, secret
How clean can she be?
Break me simply
Break me soon
Find me out
Oh, it’s here
No fool, she can’t change it
I cannot, I will not
Go crazy
With love
For you

The one thing you want, the one thing I crave incessantly
Will never happen
So what the **** are we doing here?
Braiding each other’s lost subtleties into something no one wants to see
But us

Free
Fast
Falling
*****

ink flows dull, now, on paper,
a tin tongue reciting
marks made leaden, and clouds threaten
to end dappled light here

even air breathed seems heavier,
breezes lost sweet scents
on descent from heaven,
bearing stale traces of  madness

things once destined to dance -
words, fluttering butterfly wings,
bodies of impossible fantasy -
stilled in trite fairy tale trances

awaiting touch some angel's lips,
fragrance wished from heaven sent
to reanimate brittle, nacred hearts,
like magic kisses of a princess.

life has always depended
for its existence on airs unseen;
souls' dance their passionate dreams,
only in waking finding reality ended.

furious cravings found birth
among songs sung by a siren -
I do, still, that distant voice search,
Imagining rare music was mine

Pass fires, rage like bulls.
Fight storms, cursing like sailors.
Leave home, thrilling Las Vegas.

Bet the farm on it.

Drive cattle, find patterns around you.
Drink long, burn down the yard.
Talk out loud, remember, I'll always love you.

The if is an uncertain description of what may be not what already is. Woodshine here alone although cars are full. Taking medications to keep  sanity because they told me I was insane but then I really did go insane. Woodshine through windows and doors all the nights.  Never a word that rhymes in time describing a delerious encounter with the moon. No great line here. Woodshine at darkness of day  through crisp fall cool air. Im no longer crazy or maybe not aware of what really is. Woodshined all through the house and even in the night.

half drunkard and awkward and weight I have felt,
the last of it all I am sure not been dealt,
the ocean was singing, the sky was amazed,
the bottle I drank from sped up my decay.

To lions and birds, to sheep struck in herds,
the balling of children seems to still go unheard.
Though resting our heads while our minds run and hide,
to beautiful women my eyes still abide,
abide and forgiven by time

I was walking through the night, it cleared around me, darkness were clouds. I stepped up to cobblestone and dreamt a dream of sea and salt. I dreamt a dream of sea and salt.

There is a place in my body where you lie,
A place where fold of muscles and skin,
pillars and bridges and jails of
bones are intact. . .
Where you swim in blood,
dancing in an endless rhythm of beats.
There is a place in me that can be measured,
but whats inside is immeasurable. . .

There is an Idea of you in me.