loading ideas onto a railing which proves slippery beyond the sea shore’s mercy
when all the flares have exhausted their capacity for withholding harm
when a ship comes ready to carry away any hardy souls

that’s the day I hope I have your hand in mine
when you shake in your convulsions of pain and need, I want to hold you close
and when you think I can no longer bear to witness your vulnerabilities, I pull you in and hold you
with enough space between our madness to make up for the losses that life pours



you’re the one who has seen all my masks crumble and fall
cheerily, we slip in and out of visages of today
and memory rests on those things which swim in an osseous bowl
and yesterday is an old mirror while tomorrow is an overblown expletive of the hopeful


when the world has blown its axis to damnation and beyond its realm of corridors
there’s absolutely little to overturn the leverage
the full capacity of brilliance is never reached
until we let go to enter the steady tides of the moment