Last light on the bay,
The sky stained red
By a butchered day,
Dying with the grace
Of a sinking star.
All of its charm
Chastened by the waves
To its grave.

Because their sharp rebuke
Would be swift
And angered outburst be sound
'That thou should not sail
Where the sky meets the sea
If thou dost not wish
To be drowned'


Out there on the unsound
Ground of a different galaxy,
Where aliens have no right
To be,
And salt bleeches bones
Right down to the grain
Leaving lost,
unfortunate stowaways
Scattered like shells on a beach.

The sun sets over the horizon
Painting the sky with orange and purple hues
The clouds are like cotton candy
Floating in the air, soft and sweet

The ocean waves gently caress the shore
Leaving behind traces of foam and shells
The sand is warm and smooth
Inviting me to lie down and relax

The breeze whispers in my ear
Telling me stories of distant lands
The stars begin to appear
Twinkling like diamonds on a velvet cloth

I close my eyes and breathe deeply
Feeling the peace and beauty of this moment
I wish I could stay here forever
But I know this is only a dream

the prison is
deep

her walls masked
in sewed flesh

there is only
a sliver of light

that comes from
the womb

awakening the
night

brewing many
storms into potent
thoughts

hide them
well

lest they pierce
through the skin

make a home
of murals

unwritten letters
to no one

that you keep
inside

let them return
to dusk

decay into
the rose tinted
sunsets

there are no
photographs
to remind you
of anything

nothing has
happened for
years.

The bracing raindrops
dripping
onto the wooden trellis
then hitting the stone table
i happened to have just woke up
when dusk is brewing quietly
outside the windowpanes
vestigial sleepiness dissipating
just as gradually
the fluorescent light that's turned on
stings my sense of taste for a second
and i hear the sounds of a busy kitchen
the summer heat is gone for now
i kept myself occupied all afternoon
checking and reading on my phone
if time could stand still
I'd actually like it to stay
like this
people are in a smooth
peaceful mood
it seems
like they were years ago
it also seems perhaps
it will happen again
like years from now.

Sunset
a final blush
as evening strokes the land
with butter yellow fingers
on a soft and gentle hand
caressing and *******
and finally confessing
to a scarlet indiscretion
that the day won't understand

You’re orange to me
When we met at the beach
The passenger door light
Lit your face a warm peach

So orange we’ll be
As the sun goes down
A ripe mandarin
That never goes brown

The colors
dance in waves
across the darkening sky;
a beautiful calm before the storm.
The kind of calm
the world only experiences
in the early hours of the morning
when everyone is asleep
before the weight of everything
comes crashing down on it.