People are order,

domes overarching the world --


head to head apart.

I'm fine, I clean up

broken pieces, quickly I --


look outside again.

dancing off to The Beetles’ tongue.
there is gloss on lips and all features rest
for nothing else
of decor could be found
in the sudden haze, the sudden haze
of that mad devour

we have stumbled on the edge of order
and now tumble we—
beneath, beneath, under
these treacherous waters with masquerade licked;
a calm— a calm shimmering
like them Sirens almost.
come, it cooed, and went and went we
to its feather-light lure

and jumped and swayed our arms about,
skipped and laughed then laughed
till stomachs winced

loathed
and we have loved on the lips
on the lips, but slipped
as smeared, pink hues;
oily and glittery in their innocence

there lurks chaos in its smothering, wet mouth
and we moths flutter
closer, still, still...

and for us ripped
the golden lake its skin
and us it held, held till took from us
all

we have lingered precarious and
surrendered crumbled,
and crawled out dying, dead, undying

still to those chapped, glossy
banks we go
and dance and dance and—

outside, the cosmos swirls on,
in here, the daisies scream
and ask the walls of who they cage
they silenced stand

one prayer was broken,
and one hushed;
one was hazy,
and one too late.
one then, never offered

in the age-slicked thread
of that shapeless rosary
sun on moon falls
with naught a sound
but a sigh.
and moon on sun still

within, a finger, a finger flays—
one nail was chipped
one’s skin too dry
one, imperfect a temptation,
and aching for ache one.
one then,
left alone with a clot

ask the walls
of their unwavering serenity
as hollow, massless bones
they stand

laced with cracks,
with clatter, with
thousands an uncounted
blemished prayer,
and skins as
paints scrapped off—

waiting, waiting;
to smother the daisies
to a quiet marrow

The tomcat returns,

step by step in his own track –


of paws in the snow.

Isis unveiled, not her mask
of gold, but truly, her soul
in my naked body

the energy of the world
undresses me from inside
loosens buttons, smoothens

internal bumps
fills dents and cracks
and unscrews the lids

of my wounds, licking them
slowly with love
away to thin scars

of lost unity
with what I thought
to be outside

Here I'm standing, before my throne
daughter of heaven and earth
safe and free in my breath

Who are you to tell me what to do?
We are the many run by the few.

Distant dreams and memories
Lost opportunities it seems
To the things that could have been
Reflecting on the past at half mast
Easier with hindsight to look at what might
A contestable question mentioned
How far do we plan with conviction
Experience paves the way
Flicking through past sections
Sets direction led astray on a page
Which ways do we cultivate
To lead the order of our day