—apparent late spring.
I wish the heart responded
to all that's in bloom.

What songbird?
thought my bucks and belts
might make air cowboy
soft embrace landing

buck the rest &
bite the wrist right
scrape knuckle on cheek
cutie

I've heard cranes creak
less in your ears than
when I said it all
everywhere

Love & love not,
Live and not to love;
Death should be better
Were I read the letter
Of forget our stitched knots.

Live & live not,
Love and not to live;
Life could be no worse
Than in longing for that
Which itself draws no breath.

and every night
in quietest hour
I'm dreaming of a cosmic shower

the stars will shine
as night time falls
and paint the sky in shapes and noise

which we can't touch
and cannot hear
yet love wholeheartedly and real

She said to look away
From the body that made me

—how many people
are still here, babe? **** smell of
saccharine, sweet, bloom—

As we walked through the wood,
I found myself oddly stood,
Amidst my peers and fellow friends,
As we searched to find an end,
For we believed we could.

There was a fork in the road,
Two paths diverged, their end unknown.
My peers and friends took the right,
While I stood, paralyzed in fright,
Not knowing where to go.

As they walked down their trail,
I hoped and prayed that they’d prevail,
But feeling called to look around,
I focused on the ground,
And studied, and eventaully prevailed.

The one to the left,
Had been more unkempt.
The right was more ideal,
Even though they hurt their heels,
They charged forward without regret.

However, deep in my soul,
I felt called, the origin unknown,
To walk the path that no one dared,
Not necessarily because they were scared,
But because the right had been controlled.

So, gathering my wits,
I took a step, with no intention to quit,
And walked down the path to my left,
A warm feeling spreading in my chest,
A sense of pride, I must admit.

The road I travel on,
Not many dare to step upon,
But those who do are,
Chosen by the stars,
To walk the road I travel on.

Bumps bloom upon my skin,
Each hair rises in anticipation,
But that neural cascade
fails to ******.

Your voice is falling flat,
Just shy of my ear’s drum
And your flesh is icing over,
Just out of my arm’s reach.
Your taste on my lips is fading…

And with a mouthful left to say,
I’m left dehydrating and thirsting,
Unable to swallow your memory.