In the dying light.

Glass drops caught
on bare fingers
rolling down arms
lifted in a poise stilled
to the dying sun
wrapping sheaths of light
on her skin, splaying by her sides
a dancer frozen mid-spin —
A flurry of feathers, jolts her
arms flailing
sparkling beads spill
shatter into the ground.


When the mist thickens.

When the mist thickens,
gestures shiver
in the encroaching chill
disjointed voices
hiss behind closed shutters
promises scratched
on yellowed pages
drip in fresh ink
chest drawers slide
hollow and empty, there
it gathers
unformed, unseen
the haunting, of
the unspoken.

. . .

Ruins, ruins.

The glimmer on the night lake
doused in flames
A crescent moon’s smile
torn asunder
flush rose petals
crushed underfoot
feathered caresses
frostbite tips
A birdsong
snapped with a twist

ruins, ruins
by a bat of an eye
brave of heart
is one
that melts
in the forge.

. . .

Steps on the pathless

These feet move
of their own accord
tracing out its path

Where do you go?
“I know not” I say, confused
“There is nothing
before me”

Why do you go?
seeing no further
than the tips of
my toes, I whisper
“I do not, I’ve
simply been carried”

Carried where?
“Ever into the unknown.”
so sure-footed,
these feet have
carried me far,
shown me
till my eyes brim

. . .

Hat of Sanity

Tip your head back
laugh harder
let your joints pop
to the mad frenzy
Oh no! Time waits for no man
get going
manic is the new normal
everyone’s wearing
the Mad Hatter’s hat
of sanity
Ha! Ha!
Oh no! No time to stop
Who dares stop?!


Slick rocks.

The body lay broken
on slick rocks
gathered to lift it up
by the banks
of the raging river
a rag doll
discarded, cold
blackened lips parted
glass orbs reflecting
the grey skies cracked
to the void of a wound
that rendered it

. . .


She twirls on the
palm of my hand
skin puckered to the swish
of her clear skirts
bare footfalls
up my arm
blowing through
the tangles of my weeping weaves
whistling by the drums
of these winding caverns
Thumb~ a beat
‘Listen!’ she howls
‘The river of blood
that runs through All.’


Hallowed Castle

I will tell you of a story
one with a beautiful castle
thick curtains, velvety cushions
gilded buttress along its fissured walls
gardens riot with flowers,
mango and pear trees
sickly sweet
The hallways silent,
footsteps muffled,
occasional shrieks

Women white as chalk
faded like ancient oil paintings
ghost figures frozen in silent scream
that come to life fuming with acid
dripping down their forked tongue
talons tearing through flesh

Children wilted
stained in crushed berries
eyes hollowed out black
little fists bleeding
cheeks long gouged in tear tracks
hysterical laughter echo
in their wake of a game,
roses in ashes

Men of light
chained by the wrists and ankles
that clinch tight along the walls
wrapped subtly around all
that is under their possession

as they contort under its weight
trudge vainly valiant
through the poisons scenting the air
from all the ghouls living

in the beautiful castle..

..with a needle streak of a sun ray
on a single white rose.

Sipped Silence

Beyond land and time
I heard you whisper,
“Come share a drink with me”
tentative, I follow
stepped into a pocket
suspended in limbo
watched your surprised smile
at the answering call
as you brew tea
rummaging and spilling
sugar and spices about you
the smells of your essence
wafted around us
unaware of the fluidness
in those fingers, as you add
a pinch of tea leaves
into the roiling pot
of transformation
some milk and cinnamon
sugar for the bitter salve
and poured
two piping hot cups
one for you
and one for me.
Bashfully you say,
“I fill the silence with tea.”
Cup warm against my palms
tipped to my lips
bitter and sweetness
swirling in a sip
I say,
‘There could never be enough..”

Sipped Silence
has these words
scattering away
from my pages . . .

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