Roots taught strong tethered fine;
Grapp’ling through soil.
Searing into a hot divine,
A sight to see: spruce and pine.
We often dance; through her I coil
She twirls away, slipping ‘neath my fingers.
Numbness in absence, cold like oil
Then loss lingers
And her bloods boil.

It was not love that led me back
But a fear laid in tomorrow.
For no night fades from blue to black
Without willingness of sorrow.

Sugar-coated finger bliss
Knows no child as turmoil
A parting gaze, unfinished kiss,
forever dreaming nervousness.

Surround sound silence after a freshly fallen frost, no footprints
Pressure building in ears
Cacaphony of heaviness
The single goose gasping for recognition as his flock ***** away, no forgiveness
The slug victim to its own slow speed, oozing and leaking onto the sidewalk
And every passerby indifferent, no exceptions
The plump squirrel wastes away in the midst of freezing damp grass but the sky is clear and bright, no reflections
Pause it all
Float those leaves back from whence they came
No exemptions
And grant me the pleasure
Of one last lifetime
Before the sun bleeds away without inflection.

Watching the smoke whirl through the air
I believe we are no different.
Can one grab hold of the smoke and declare it to be so with certainty?
I, too, slip through my own fingers and am lost in the fading light of dusk.

A tree begins to expire in autumn.
Blooming is brisk -  
Soon its crown is ablaze,
Infiltrating through crimson, amber, vermillion!
The painter’s brush flourishes on each and every leaf.

Soon, cool temperatures and rain
Give rise to leaves fallow and  dissolving into concrete
And I wonder,
Is a leaf percolated by the ground just as noble?
Piles of their wet corpses by the curb suggest otherwise.

Ages of sunset lit seas
Burned honestly through your true white bones.
Bones before me,
Bones wiser than all of me.

I suppose I underestimated you
That night as harsh winds danced with our dispositions.

These crevices of depravity
Grip me with the weakened but determined jaws.
Every quiet shake a testament to myself,
Or lack thereof.

Pride –
I can survive on this cellulose eschewing my reserves.
But you don’t see that.
How could you?
You are blinded by the smoldering smudge you call beauty.

Leodendrum tulipifera –
Bones weaving through sharp winter air.
No, I will not go with peace.
You must watch as I choose the path most piqued.

I hope you see my screaming bones
I  hope you hear them reverberate in the unconscious state you call sleep.

Draining is not death,
But existence exactly.

Sweet, sterile, smooth, smothering
Epithelial aerobics abound
Cells curl and desiccate like tips of leaves past their prime -
Just give me one second.

I now live authentically, I say to myself
My heart is in the mountains
Despite words gurgled from my sweaty face in the swirling splendid solitude of darkness –
“Help!” is what I mean to say, but as I break the barrier between liquid and atmosphere
It is the air that chokes my breath -
Just one moment.

Bacterial bile bubbles up
At the sight of
Dirt – contamination – fear
Everywhere.
In pores
Out of pores
Under nails –
No, no more nails now –
Stuck deep inside my skin –
That no brush’s bristles can ever scrub away
Still, I try – God knows I try! –
Skin raw and red and deserving.
They’re in my wounds, too –
Salts and chemicals I choose to douse
But it only eats deeper
There is a ragged red hole in my skin now -
Just give me one second.

Jaw tight, teeth ache, head pounds
Hands dry despite the fatiguing humidity
So it helps to see the crimson creeping up the flag of my disposition
I like this proof of biological clarity,
Like rainwater gliding up the capillaries of a plant
In reverse -
So just hold on one moment.

There was a time when I felt truly free,
I know it in my heart of hearts.
I was free once
Certainly, I was free
I was free
I was truly free -
So just give me one second.