Whenever I heareth her voice
Or seeith her face;
I dehisce
Out of mine body, into holy grace.


©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl jane Nagley dedication \Filipino rose dedication

crashing waves, a siren call
though i don't need it, not at all
i come to you, my black abyss
pull me under, as i dehisce

i won't see you mourn for me
as i become the salt of the sea

Crossroads of life
A bombilate jumbo.
Intersection of strife
Friction rub's its surface.
Prelude solitude
Is only the beginning.
Desolation, destitute
Needing more, and I'm not winning.
Buoyant, for my wife I do dehisce
Burping fondness as we both grow older.
Let the heat take us
Forget those nights
That got colder.
Tommorrow I do look forward
To.