hard as a feather
capture the weather
polarities are kindred souls
i long to hold you close to my *****
and assume the unassuming
is all you have need for

our hands are hourglasses
broken on the seashore
sand has spilled out like rice
justified by time
another victim of the sublime
i miss her kindred spirit
although happiness and density
weighed heavy upon my soul
i chose to wait for comfort and shallow tide to control
the outcome of this poem
is like an ancient story
where the gods are getting hungry so they eat their own
brownness

forgotten
in fields of rotten tyrants
and brooms
sweep the countryside
like fire
burning through streets
tearing down the feasts of dionysus, bacchus, and eurypides
orpheus’ daughters
sold all of their water
to the maitre d’s and hostesses
so your own emotions could rent rooms in their vacant hallways

i saw all your warnings
and yet i chose to run right through them and into your arms
accept this token of my heart
a piece of fabric torn from sober wisdom
and spun with threads of copper
it becomes a blanket
and wraps your fragile nakedness
as the corn and leaves used to do

forgetful one
please heed this
your memory is naked
respect the unexpected
your lies are being collected and written on papyrus
sirens are awakened by your cries in the wasted light of the moon
perhaps we still must make amends
say amen
and sweat
your swathing blanket
your **** angels
swear by their creator
saying: do yourself a favor and let me enter you