as i recall now in the ethers of my mythic reveries…
so many kingdoms were always You.
even as your spark waned and our hours where apart
from time itself… like a fallen leaf in a pause
on a canvas of unspoken colors
that mean everything.

i believe you moon much too close to the sun with the dark thought.
the stunning glamor of annihilation on the cusp of pain that sings
but you're tone deaf and operatic.
my nerve is the love that summoned me to your torment
like a hackysack to a lazy happy on the green.
i abrupt your gloom when you’ll have me
but i bother most to love you
as you are.

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.