smoke and the reason.
all the grains of sand in a minute.
and a blue collar pearl.
don't we love
how the love expires ?
it makes a giant out of hurt
but it can't be bought
though we all pay.

the both of our plans
were silent.
we were drifting into granules
of lost time.
we were pre-dreamt.... but had nothing
to sleep through.
we saw the end of the movie
and blamed
ourselves.

seeping into the verdant green of our posthumous lawn
with our wide eyes clipped and the noonday sun...
folding sparrows into cloth and breaking bread for no reason.
stumped on the miracle, but ludicrous and undone.

it takes everything you ever wanted
to get what you got.
it doesn't take more than you know
only the spin of your want.
we sleep in the hills, where the valley squall
is crushed... but our love is just enough
to be in it.

O' how the rabbit hole is cozy fuss
with little wriggly baby ducks
that lost the pond
but kept enough petunias
to ignite the
moon.

if anything
is thing enough
with everything a thing and such...
would any thing be there
for what ?

and why are you
reminded ?

Our kisses are the descendants
of our affection, Cousin to our grief.
and the midday sun through a thicket.
Our embrace like braille for a ******.
he may not be blind, but he cannot see
any reason
to not please you.
Love is the first fire we ever knew.
we chased our comets and slept in thistle clouds -
barking at the afternoon.
we sleep in a van, parked in the palm
of an Unknown God.
and joy is the kingdom
of tickets.

i had dreams that towered over Memphis
and long grain rice in a bowl of short fuses.
i had things that showered over senses.
and wrought twice as many muses.
but dismantled my defenses.

i had Hope.

gooseneck barnacles are laughing at the sugar in your coffee.
you snip sunshine from the heather and embark -
upon the journey of your life -
as a slave to pickled goat and lemon spheres.
you Barley up the pipe, and the rain retreats
to the beckoning... humming in fierce clouds
and singing nothing
but return,

the sum of all Deer, are casting spells into your blind spot, probably.
you can't find a truth in your grip, until it's dark.
and on the gurney, you find the angel, fallen on your behalf... imprisoned.

wyrd.

and you -
have something
fully lost.

I will what I will. Just like you do.
I come from the outside, on the inside.
and i know you've been there
too...
it's a shame but we
might be ******.
and I might
be you.

we could call it a day, with
the night removed.

all this love
without
proof.