If We Could

talk about orchard red petals on wood tables
plate upon each other
soft eggs whispering to candle wax and I am

just buried in wallpaper
trapped in a past life
guessing on about oil in still life canvas

on a second thought my eyes shift
to roll back
and he slithers up toward my lips

because if he could he wouldn’t exist
yet here we begin
just two pieces of black ice
melting pastels into sunset

and if we could get it back together
from memory – where it is what it was –
we would pluck tiny pellets from
pomegranates in winter
for juicing

individually

without each other

Dystopia

out there
rain lives
and breathes
and falls asleep
the way I want to

instead
I stay

eat cactus

fry worms on black top

undress for men
I don’t want

touch
every
square
inch

like its you

Helios Unconquered

a blue bird twines
of wire
where sunflowers grow

your air is twisted
like she
unthawed
in your
affection

an aroma far
from lonely

i find dizziness
underneath
liquor

we are empty
never simultaneously

the glass is warped
i’ve stood here forever
waiting
for the
freeze to pass

Helios in
a winter solstice
unconquered

I am fire and light

come to me

carnal

this does not belong
in a book
or on paper
it should be
blazing across
each existential universe

your immaculate
humility stumbles
my gesture

bathe me in
every movement
that has made
you a man

every echo
is wild

pulsating

carnal

I am

His Shadow

inside my chest, a universe
is born – yet to be touched
by hands of The Creator

he drives over city limits
lips openly rested
tongue saturated with
thoughts of fresh
female
sentiment

one particular body

conception happened
a seed was planted
it took root
in salty palmed
memories

I never have left this desert
where my heart started
he knows I can –
I will be his shadow

What Happens To Love

A blank sky starts out
and just like that
like embers flicking
popping
rising
from a camp fire

a Universe is on fire
holding hands
twisting fingertips
underneath precious metals
of an Earth

for the sake of intimacy
on black heels
in a month
like August
like seductive and
sweet

she is a golden pear
dangling fresh in the night air
all men have met her
at some point
she becomes bitter

after the picking
after the tasting
after familiarity increases

Blue Notes Ready

Blue notes ready
get the fumes ready
we’re going to spread this
wild.

City streets rain down
pistol shots
whiskey shots
wake me up, I’m just a
child.

Sell me back to classical keys
the ones that leave
fire in oxygen.
Your spirit still sits
in your acoustic strings.

Baby, I could see a future of missing
your blue river running
wildly over
everything.
Don’t tempt the flames
they’re easier than Spring.
We’re going to spread this wilder
than fire.

I Met You Today

No pillow comes without residue.
At our age, blessings come in small forms…

hands cradled together,
words buried in sweet breath,
unconditional nights,
uncontrolled…..

Tell me about your exploration, about
fingertips trickling down
courage….
spines do not break easily, do they?

I met you today,
I see your influence and result,
you probably know
that I see through blue eyes,

saturated by the way your fingertips move.

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Fountain of Confessions

How To Sleep In A Gutter When You’re Not Dead

Curl up raw, stranger. Where is your
husband’s thick pockets?
You must be one of those different
colours.

I’m dead on my feet, you’re
sleeping in the gutter. Five days
in February – we both struggle.

Half a dozen snowflakes
ring the city, one man
hangs high above the river
two blocks down –

I can’t get my gown down
when I hear the secrets –
you shiver under the ice
and I like it,

biting my bottom lip, I’m nervous
for the next move.
Who’s it to be? Me or You?
All is well and dead on this side
but you look alive –
try to get a grip around your neck, but
you slump over
the cold.

Where did he go with his large gloves?
Are you beating like a cat fish or more
like drums?
Your colour is looking frozen.
Don’t pull those tears off too early or
you won’t recognize me.

I’m sorry for you, sister, losing
in this land, but when I see your secrets,
I tremble from a cursed realm
and I am ready to fade into the big city,
9 o’clock,
locked up with something like a vacuum cleaner
and let you go.