I hide my lacerating dreams
maps form then fall.
Little fingers tangle neurons
tugging at timid gazes and lore.

I plant thorns on your mouth
pretend it to be a rose .
Your shadow passes
a neophyte’s ashes blowing in the wind.

I build a pyre for each encounter
stripping my body fictitious sins.
I turn my back to the heat
a stranger devouring her soul.

Invisible now, I step out
consecrated tombs stand where I once stood.
I stare at prophetic torture fields
and listen to the howling of memory.

I scatter words to thaw out the void
love letters inscribed in blood.
They settle on a crater or two
A still born silence and frozen sap.

But cascading noise drown these verses
made from doubt in silk threads.
Lean sentences gone terribly wrong
On the beaten road to hell.