I breathe benevolence in wild dust of tumbleweed.

I store a thousand miles of moonlight in my crunched up tangle.

My scented hair holds the essence of night diamond winds.

I gather my life, curl by curl
  twist by twist, rolling through like knotted midnights-

A bruising ball of spike and thorn.

  I will sweep through deserts like a wild thing.

I come out of nephilim scars.

Weep the outcasted country of fallen angels.

Tortured rambler of ghost war roar.

I am torn loose
my thistles flow rapid
   like a giant ball of desert song
     haunting the darkness in
          moonlight wind.