syphoning all upon intake
where it whirlpools within
to a swirl of wistful nostalgia
of misty morning strolls.
safe in a valley amongst
the tallest peaks
sheltered from the expanses
& shrouded by warm embrace
of surrounding mountain tops
through which dew collects
in channels and falls
by grand design
reflecting iridescence
refreshing essence
rue of none.
-  - -
and with just one exhale
the storm is unleashed.

let it flow
whichever way
the wind blows
- - -
maybe then,
swiftly swishing through rocks
it can find itself
a nice little
home.

scrambling quickly around the ferris wheel while trying to look out and around at the passing summit only to see unlit streets and broken tambourines. riding the high not forged down to the valley between two foes. whatever comes to me now i show. put it on display with hopes that it grows into something beautiful. within me, it's little less than ephemeral. what goes up must come down must also go back up but it's sickening down to the pit of my stomach to find no altitude to make myself a home. wherever i go. wherever i go, i don't know what i want to know. some spark be it magic be it profound, dive in head first in water knee-deep. stream of consciousness not enchanting nor disenchanting like the babbling brook so often written about. a haunting presence to be read but like the divine cannot be known and only felt so too are these cards that i was dealt.  still- i feel nothing but sick by the thought of enduring on a breathless path removed from my senses. thickening of any sense or desire to progress into the darkness around, to find warmth aglow guiding the way. this way forward, walk towards me. one step forward and suddenly i can't see inward or outward, still i'm told- to carry onward. onward i must go but muddied conventions run quick and clear constitutions disappear.  there used to be places and spaces carved into stone in the jungles for those like me. sequestered from shame by not fitting a mold indistinctly so. not for a purpose, only for daft languishment fading back into the collective unseemingly so. biddings left unbalanced, dreams remain in the trenches dug by unequivocal noise surrounded by pomp and confusion. i take two bellows to fill my lungs emptied by a stampede consisting of one-only me. footsteps drumming to quicken my unbeating heart into action where none is wanted. companion of conviction resolute in distractions to pass through the present day into a land of unventured composition. befriending brutal honesty but only the brute reveals itself. masked and muted by blithe forgivings. destined for isolation made worse by longing for kinship that has long sailed away back across the atlantic into another realm colored by iridescence that no longer exists and very likely never did. there's no way for me to know though: which way these words came from or which way they'll go. so i stay entrenched; my feet wet in this unbroken stream of consciousness.

concrete milieu
prime for the scraping
of  knees that hold me
while i'm praying for
reprieve shaped by space
for flowers to grow-
out of my vision
- - -
the colors still impression
clearly in periphery
escaping my gaze

all or nothing.
all or nothing.
someone please save me
from this all or nothing.
for ages i've teetered back and forth
between the extremes of empathy:
no one's right
no one's wrong
when you find yourself
traveling alone to
the edge of both
how do you come back
to sisters
living in the mind
to become the mountain
used to churn oceans
and save the world?

all or nothing
please teach me
the ways and walks of
my sister
delphine

trudging along the mountain
barbed wire guard rail
holding my place
words losing meaning
horizon still shortening
when they tell me to
alchemize these wounds
it's something i'm not able to do

in plain view i see the truth
not palatable, nor pleasant
simple as syrup
maybe for everyone else
but not for me

pray tell
which way will set me free?
listening to the head
i'd let go of the railing
and leave you in my wake--
praying for
my dear departed soul
the truth i see so obvious
but confounded by the
twists & turns
different rivers, different roads
all going nowhere
to the same ******* hole.
- - -
so pray tell me,
what does it mean to flow?