The burning sun is awake
The hawks are awake
The demons are awake
The butterflies are awake. They are awake.&nbsp;&nbsp;

Darkness enshrines,
Rich, bright, darkness. 
Confusion and dazed franticity.

Blinded and stumbling,
They breathe,
They are free. 
I am suffocated. 

Choking. 
And no one, 
Not even those who watched me swallow the air,
Hear me gasp.

Untitled

my willingness 

to play the fool

sets a mind at

ease that never was.

even so, you figure

prominently.

a buxom licentiousness

fawning over a boy

with your goddess-grown 

hands...administering.

your unique franticity.