Cobwebs;
That desperate correspondence
Of a salty conscience
... falls two droplets
Leaky prophet
NO, I have lost it!
Touched too much hot
Of the water faucet
Red hands
Scorned,
Reaching,
Torn
They remain this way
'Til they know what they're for..

Speak easy
Hit the peace pipe
Hate is fleeting
...........................

Don't make a peep
Hear the sounds
Draining around you
Feel my silk skin
And forget


YOU

EVER

EVEN

EXIST
.............
Dear blood of my blood
Moon and my stars,
Do you really
Have what it takes
..To be wild
Truly and irrevocably wild
With me
And Leave everything behind
Sometimes I doubt if I do
But I need to be your hero
So there's no room for second guessing
All there is to do is just
GO

The moon is full tonight.
I can feel it's pull.

The cat stares at me.
Her eyes seem to suggest she knows what is on my mind.

As I gaze up into the mysterious sky,
The familiar taste of salt trickles into the corners of my lips.

I can feel a tug of my emotions,
Like the moon somehow has a role in the pull of my interstitial fluid.

It is basically sea water,
Right?

The black cat loiters a certain superstition within.
Fear becomes instilled as she stares into my soul with her all knowing glare.

"Blame it on the moon, blame it on the moon.
Tides come and go, so this shall too"

I strive to find the comfort this world has to offer me
Some say it comes from within, this I am not sure of.

The thoughts linger. The cat knows, I know she knows.
What does she make of me in this incapacitated state?

I taste the salt. It is drawn out by the moon.
That is what I tell myself.

Deep down I know the salt is due to the overwhelming grief I try to deny.

And the cat is merely the internalized self stigma eating away at my self esteem and efficacy.

Hazy,
Like your memory

Distant ,
Like your touch
Longing .....
There is a storm out tonite
Dust, won't let the moonbeams touch my soul

We cruise rattlesnake bends.

Once in, you
find phantom lakes;
I - a full moon
over mountains of clay.

Sitting at the wooden table
the sun rises to my right
and the mountains become blue
under a grapefruit-shake sky.

My hands are *****. My lips
dry.