Fell in love last friday
with a non-binary star
woke up and brushed my teeth
with sunglasses on thinking
of them

white shots of hail and the windows
jeweled from the rain
a hot week and hot nights
followed by a hot star
and sheets of rains from grey clouds
changing

mature man
holding his nose
to life
desires young woman
who
is indifferent to
oranges
and longs for those
days
before umbrellas

you swept the ashes of winter
lit red and ****
drawn naked with smoke
and coal
still glowing
in the shadow of paper flowers
pressed to walls of plaster
and stone

Deep…
I’m sinking in the dark
The world is upside down
Just the way it should be
I’m taken in by warm skies
And the clouds are tangible

The steep curves of slopes
I climbed crawling
Your breath, the gust
That turned my world over

To reach the rain
I danced on skin
Trenching spells
Caressed soft soil
To split for me a sea of thighs
So I could go the distance
Where We end up as God

To be born, is to emerge as a soul within a verse  

existing through eyes, ears, nose, and feelers.      
Persistent as the bindweed thriving in a blind spot
and the rat-fleas riding around in the cellar.
            
All life contains this soul, it’s in; the drumming and the drift,
the way one shifts to their feet when battling the throes,
and the persistence of plague, which
encodes each cell with a rhythm and a role.  
                                        
To drown in a river is to **** that portion of the river’s soul,
as there is no way; no lungs, no mouth
to resuscitate waters that can no longer flow.
The soul needs a body to show; the body needs a soul to breathe out

to be re-born, is to re-exist in recurse of a soul already given,
that is, unless, the soul has already been driven out.      

S.L. Weisend-  2014