An infinite sky exits within my teacup.
Rose, mint world..
in a porcelin bowl.
Blue backdrops the newly budding tree,
its green sprouts compliment the sun with
their shine.
I do not wish to drink this world away.

My tongue is dry.
My lips wrinkled from the thirst.
I kiss the bowl one time.
And swallow this world.

Woman at the well
Sitting on its borders
Looking down within
She fell, she fell

Buckets come, buckets go
Water is taken
She sinks down some more
In the well, for she fell

Meet her there
Halfway, all the way

I thirst with
an ache for
something I
cannot name

So in death I shall
quench my thirst

I want to swim to heaven,
because this city has an infection.
No injection will **** this disease,
this treachery, this brutality;
So I'm going to swim to heaven,
back float--take my time, my rhyme,
will be the deep blue trip
to heaven.

I stand here, in a barren land with a mouth, useless, as if full of sand. A soul-weary beggar seeking to quench this thirst.

     Each night I speak to the heavens; a faint whisper of a prayer
     cast from parched lips that long for the tonic that is you.
     Their humble plea is for a grand celestial alignment, a
     quantum tunnel, an unbranched chain reaction, that leads me
     straight back to you.
     Every breath that passes through them infuses each cell of my
     being with air saturated by a craving for you.
     You are the only elixir that will satiate this emptiness.

The arbutus is brave
sheds itself in long, showy
strips, aflame
leaving the fair frailest
skin exposed, willing
knife’s tip of lovers’ claim
standing
even
still
holding earth together, scar tissue
marking life
line, root’s depth
patient power

I remember my infant skin
cut, the drowning, breaking surface
with half a breath remaining, and the hollow
I scratched out and burrowed into
that day, undone

Now, underneath the heat
and itch, the crust
my skin inflamed
the fair frailest part of me
thirsty for that cooling breeze, willing
fellowship with sun and knife
to shed and bump against
a tangled life

How else will roots reach down
and down
to find the source
of ancient power?