Such a huge, beautiful sky
Now that the mountains have all
Called in sick.

Plains where valleys were,
Seas withdraw as if in retreat;  
Defeated armies of

Timelessness. Wake of
Soil and stone. Such a
Huge, all embracing heaven  

Not even looking down.
And now, enter her, as I make
Myself comfortable with

My new life of treatments and
A violently shortened lifespan;
The one I always loved from

Within the shadows.
Willing me to live.
Caring.

A sleeper angel deployed to
Hold the holder;
Double-wing-cover from

The snow. Old love unspoken.
The kind that makes hills run for
Themselves.

Steady and unquestionable;
Tectonic shifts between hearts
Running out of

Tic-tocs and bass lines.
Plains where valleys were. She
Fills craters with her presence

In the room.
Never my girl; always my girl.
Sleeper angel activated.

I see why the seas withdraw.
No wonder the mountains called
In sick.

She raises solar storms with her little finger;
Conducts atmospheric changes with
A sigh.

She is beautiful being,
She’s hiding in this loving dark
She sings plays piano, smiling .
And she lets winds inside her house.

Black lace skirt that reaches floor.
Grass eyes, grey hair and “the red Moscow”.
A heart of gold, a mind of ice.
A crimson sweater over that all.

Black kitty’s wandering the place.
There are dead flowers in a vase.
You think she is in pain, well it’s the case.
She’s weaving wreaths now with a sad face.

I write what I see,
Because I am blind.
I write what I hear,
But I am deaf.
I write what I feel,
But paralyzed.
I write what I smell,
In my burnt nose.
I write what I taste,
The only sense left,
And thank the day,
Because it can be worse.

Secrets create,
Enemies and friends.
Can start new trends.
Reveal new tech.
Endanger peace.
Turn blue to red.
Secret whispers.

Secrets welcome.
Extra income.
Conditional love.
Regretful outcomes.
Emotional sin.
The hidden grin.
Secret whispers.

Secret sounds.
Entrapped inside.
Craves to be found.
Results in lies.
Eats till it dies,
Till realized.
Secret whispers, do not hide.