the page was blank
and then This.

i parked words
where they should go
and now
This.

i come apart to
join a choir.
and all
things
sing.

i fetch a golden fleece
from timid scars
and coerce my loneliness
into a corner
of blatant
touch

as my open mind
dissolves
into sea a of
unrelenting
waves

combing every beach of the world
with diphthongs
and amethyst

and too many joys
to deny.

or resist.

The bells are dun. Pewter-smitten in a quagmire of un-crisp pings.
there’s a church where a sparrow would go. but more ravens now
on the hill. bathing in salts and moonglow…
singing to brackish ponds and cattails
after moths have fallen off the tip
of flames
that our campfires
do.

we are so marooned
it’s like we’re
together
when the world
is gone

but for true.

mint julep landscape.
fink whistle barking at dead weight.
charm ***** farce laden in eighth grade.
stuck like chuck on a farm
in the best dark
but dismayed.

stung by a star.
vespers in a twist
where the average
surpasses
and all strange
is par for the
coarse.

hematite in the stitches
where your earth won’t move
is how the moon gets
in.

as she is want
to do.

the chirp in the middle of a hurricane’s blue eye
is a velvet epiphany, swollen with burgeoning
beyond the kin of small life. it’s like a lonesome love-
as broad as a narrow sea.. dreaming of actual love
and sleeping through the apocalypse
with alacrity

and aplomb.

i can see your house from here.
like a handwritten letter in my hand.
i can smell your love in the void.
i thank you for the towers of ablution
bathing in the swoon
of our absolute.

You Recall me to a storm
that had an Eye
for such things.

every day.
by the by.

and my somewhere is you for the dream of it.
and love is how something
gets done.

hello petal.
are you yawning fire?
sleepy head weasel
with long kites in a breeze
with too many termites
in your actual house.
i see your tears
when they laugh at my tears
and you’ve wondered off.
somewhere between yes
and
maybe
knot.

i love your solution
to the whole intractable
bloom.
how your flowers are my forest
is like

wow!

there is no taming the skin… only the move your bones dream
and the perdition  of untapped memes, sprawling in the perfume
of our disquieted assembly. soothing thorns
north of our spine
as crumble joy mocks the the path
of our appalling
with a woeful rime too bright
in the head
to have all
the problems
of being too
unloved.
tonight.

we are not common. we are “ other than “ and then some.
more like a gaggle of geese in a windmill forged in the furnace
of lost tongues. cute and abbreviated . but on fire
like an ice song.
we keep the heat where the actual gods of our demise
laugh too hard to be soft now, because
"Gods".
i sleep in your dreams now
like a nocturne in a fable.
i keep our secrets where they are naked
and too broad to be discreet
at sunrise.
i assume you have wings
and therefore the night
will have to chase
us both.
too fleet to be real.
too genuine
to be
less
than
Us.