atlas
echoes to the waters edge,
no fractured beauty in the
luminous lost in love.
from ridge
to crest
to flume, 
the olive in my skin
flutters.
veins
rust,
ripple,
and glimmer.
this deadened
parcel
coppers. 
dock your heart to mine
as we expire,
muted.

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this mirror doesn't look like it used to;
jigsawed together in dichotomous consummation.

fireflies once loved in falsetto,
now plumb to umber,
no less mystical
rather walking in slumber.
windows carry weight
and light is no longer peaching.
hands never raised,
no longer reaching.
hushed desire perched on lips,
showing but never speaking.

it's the loudness of action,
reaping what y...

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it is in the safety of the charred night,
one whose stars have been hand plucked
from the sky,
that I observe myself
in an infinite bliss.

the cosmos purr this sacred psalm of wonder,
this fresh breath of a new love
spilling from my lips
sets fog from core.

I thrust myself to the sky
time and time again,
and time again.
this precious consequence
leaves me 
numb and hungry
for an...

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to grieve is to know love intimately.

to pluck his voice from a crowd,
though I've not heard it in years.
to reminisce about my fingertips
reading his calloused hands like braille
and finding my next breath in every tactile.

to recognize any morsel of his being
in any dimension
and pledging patience to the search
in every lifetime.
to finding him.
and knowing he is ever present.

...

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peel your chin from the canyon,
drown your heart in rock salt,
and let the glow pour into every cleft.

feel the rumble in thunder.
let your feet meet the earth.
stand in symphony.

baptize yourself in rain.
cover your ears
and watch with marvel at the world.

let this breath be new.
strip the heat from your mouth
and gaze like linchpin.

rid your body of brittle.
soak in devotion...

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binding my roots to the earth 

is a sacred therapy.

my soul recognizes it

as muscle memory.

this holy walk on eternal plank,

brushing elbows with the grey

while i claw to escape my skin.

a draw of breath into infinite abdication,

bleeding out in memory.

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the universe plays its cruel tricks;
dressing my love in a body I must share
with a dying world.
but she is beautiful
and kind
and delicate
so I must learn to flourish in the shadows.

but I will him next to me
waiting to be enveloped in his arms,
lick the sweet sand,
and knead it against the tip of my tongue.
for the first time
I understand what it means
to summon a phenomenon 

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I am a silly boy 

Today it crept down my skull 

and trickled across my collar

and filled my arms and groin 

with heat and blood and sparks 

I panicked and squirmed and screamed 

I had no control, 

asked my doctor to help 

He told me, with a patronizing paternal smile, 

that I was feeling 

happiness 

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A light dusting finds the meaning; two souls crash into me,
One intervenes, and one starts leaving.
Two holes, twofold, the blackest of the evenings.
I unscrew the cap loose, a bruise invokes the screaming.
I refuse to be the noose that ends all the seasonings.
What can make you better can also make you dreamy.
I tighten up my tie and proceed into work...

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Tiny toes adorned with painted nails delicately set high above the creased velvet goldmine below. Perched a top the gentle slopes guiding you down to the very heart of her most gracious arch.
My eyes now firmly fixed on the very center of her bend. Soft, tender flesh.
A delightful garden leading down to the very soles of your feet. One hand wrapped around your big toe and the other lifting your ...

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only poetry

can explain my 

coarsened hands made so unsteady

muffled heart beat - louder, heavy

trusting eyes fallen too quickly 

flaring skin

an impish grin

only poetry

and you

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he says he can feel his heart getting covered with pink strawberry milk

he’s never had strawberry milk before

but he knows i like sucking on the fruit like a child does,

a popsicle

he says he’s falling

and cannot tell if this falling feels like that from a cliff into the oceans

or down a hole in the ground spiraling into nowhere and

everywhere

he hurts when t...

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Some moments

And emotions

Can not be

Caught on

Camera

That is why

We need

Poetry

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Just some more free verse that popped into my head. I think there is something for the sake of art in leaving something as it is etherically 'given' now and then....

Only my pillow knows

Where my mind goes

As I close my eyes

When I wake up

It says Nothing

Look as it lies there

Smug and Plump

It also knows

Where your head goes

When it's not next 

To mine

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