I am a constellation
pasted to a smear of deep sky or
some god spun leaf drifting
a wintry blue pond.
My tongue turns silvery around
my words, do not take them
for sorrow I have named them
Do not forget me.
I still need you to carry me
over the pierce of thorns
My hands are good for nothing but
a plea do not forget me
I am still here my hair a tangle
Autumn leaves have begun to fall.
Late October London is ablaze in hues of orange and purple.
On my bench by the river I daydream that I am an adolescent
reptile escaped from Kafka’s Die Verwanlung, laid back basking in the sun.
The air is layered in heavy cologne but men do not interest me now. I am content to casually observe. To my advantage I know all about them while they know so little about me. Thinking of you against my wishes, dying a little, dead all the sweet hope of dreams never realized, I imagine my earthly body padded, sat beside yours on a grassy knoll
breathing the scent of lilac and the mossy green River Delta.
In the dark I am nude but for a shadow across my torso.
You are so near and to distract my self from this burning desire
I let my thoughts linger among the lines of Roethke’s “In A Dark Time”.
Years pass and by chance we meet at the sad cafe. I sway in your arms like a fragile birch in an autumn tempest. The halo of my eyes glisten recalling how we gave away what we never really had. We hold each other knowing that love has died and we with it.
art by Fabian Perez
You are my obsession
undulating waves of fixation
that can not be restrained.
What I know of you
I have learned through osmosis
the taste of ozone I crave
like breathing air.
Beauty only knows to
be beautiful, send me a
signal through the blackout.
Take my hand and let
me land in your warmth
for I am shivering.
It is always raining here,
I am nothing but precipitation
slipping down your skin.
This is an entire album…you might want to stop it at 4:24.
She is provocative
at times she is insolent.
Her concept of red
is nowhere near
Her house is
the hollow of bones
its burning walls stretched
She has suffered despair
braved the triteness
She is in search
waiting to ignite.
The Strangers gather on the green choking on smoke and the scent of seared flesh. The sun is climbing down to meet the flames. As she smolders he dampens her gown. Just before the wind whips up she is in Elysian fields.
Winter mists the window panes
with veiny tributaries that trickle
to the sill with a warm touch.
The trajectory of time trails run off
down the mountain side an affirmation
of spring the honey-sweet deceit of
Remain here until the birds sing
our disparity, till reality overshadows
dreams and tears and dew drops blend.
Then we will part.
Art by Rae Williams at Pinterest
I sigh, light my cigarette and turn to you.
Within this dream I propose let us fly away.
Your eyes so dark
whip my mind into arousal and your
rugged hand on my thigh makes me
soft inside and everywhere.
You whisper that my hair so near
and my lips a crimson darkness devours you.
Against waves of joy and sadness dreams are
always what it could be like.
Suddenly hares chase foxes and Roebuck’s
hunt hunters and I bury my face in your
chest and you shield me within bleak arms
to not see the terror and we fly away.
art by Babylon Premium
This morning I threw wide
that carved door of souvenirs.
The scent of sandal wood
filled the air and missing
you was a stone bruise.
Tonight I will walk down
to the shore, that galaxy
of pearls and tumbling waves
of frothy champagne.
The mangroves are filled with
flickers and blooms and the
sky glimmers with silvery mirth.
I could stay here until Spring among
the honey cake dunes and not think
of you at all.