this is not meant for you
though you were there
from a distance.
I am what I have always been,
an elixir of words in my throat.
Unlike the shore I will not erode
like patience if it ever was.
Washed up on a restless shore
I knocked, you opened the door.
Now, like the pearly sand below my feet, I carry no burden save love.
borrowed from Pinterest
We thirst at the pool of desire,
our reflections distorted in the liquid mirror.
Filled with apprehension we drink deeply,
soothed by the urging of an ancient sigh.
Our bones rapt in wonder, an emerald serpent binds us,
winds a savage path deep into the shadows.
He breathes his breath into us, regurgitates the ashes.
Curls around the ruins, a benevolent green shoot.
art by Fontaine
Winter does not empathize
with withered branches
or displaced birds fleeing waves of
of frozen breath.
Her howling wind is a laugh out loud and
she hasn’t the grace to cover her mouth.
A tease of holly and evergreen
flicker at the curve of billowed thighs,
glistening folds of hallowed mounds
drift in other worldly sighs
ensnared in her exquisite binds.
art by Karol Bak
Tiny birds live in my throat,
settle into a warm berth
inert until they are stirred.
Awakened, they beat their wings
against fiery walls,
spill from my Kafkaesque mind
biting the ears with bloody
teeth that slice like barber blades
piercing the heart with surreal talons.
What is sacred I swallow.
art by Karol Bak
I left a message for you in a book.
It is like me to mark provocative phrases,
to shake them out in ponderous verses.
Do not read too much in the fallout of pages,
the notes in the border are for nostalgia’s sake.
I dreamed about love last night,
my adversary, always teasing me.
Your aura I only half recall yet you linger,
the suffering is in knowing what might be real.
Art by Fabian Perez