Babe, in the woods

The sounds of trees
As they all melted together humming into a bee swarm choir.
All of them tenors singing around my delicate sensibilities,
Breaking the crystal with those high pitched cries at
The octave of all deceptions.

Good Fortune

The coin fed gypsy, returned to the arcade this year freshly repaired and painted. Teeth yellow and faintly brown like Daffodil heads bowing to die, like her crookedly redeemed poesy red cheeks just installed.

Fly Away Home, Blessed Body

A blue velvet bag opened by this single
Movement – her hand reached
Into the spaciousness above
And all stars’ light unpacked, and
Secreted away in drawer full of daydreams.
Now the seashore glistens
With the promise of night, and
Eternally luminous
With all the befores,
And all the ever afters,
Moving our millions of tears
Into a single smiling river.
“Goodnight my beautiful bodies,”
And we fly away home, laughing.

Eventide

Riding passenger side snapping right, I’m down in front stealing long exposures. From the back seat our youth sits Mocking us with instant polaroids. Destroyed pictures of minutes and memory Precious and precarious slip a stone At once here and at once gone. Right under the driver breaks hard and higher Up another mile, silently […]

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