Mourning Snow

 

Lay your smile upon mine

because I need to feel you

Here.

I’ll give you my breath

when you are running out of

Air.

 

Embrace my silence

as the snow jumps around you,

driven through crisp air

like broken glass through

iceberg blue tears.

 

Follow my voice,

the impact of desire

shoots through your veins

like remote energy that

falls from stars in space.

 

In the space of morning

stars dance through my eyes,

crumble in your broken

embrace. I’ll trace your tears

with this newly fallen snow

and wish to be the

salt on your cheeks.

Daydreaming a Dream

 

Winter wakes and I sleep

to dream of stark outlines;

glitter sparkles, flowing

from the liquid veins

while lover’s shadow hovers

in your darkness.

 

In the cold, heat surrounds

narrow pieces of every being

Now living, Now believing.

Rise and fall of his brother’s

heavy chest. His lucid, dying breath

slows in the mist of the

off-beat waves disappearing on the

shore. bring no help.

 

Fall back, loosen your collar once more.

this is only, just, a dream—

of that I am sure.

 

now. he is still breathing.

 

“This matter, though, does not matter.”

On the back of his observation

lay a verity in name alone—

 

Life, too, is a dream:

dark or light,

day or night—

Passion licks the lips of Death. 

A Fire to burn

I light incense for my senses

orange light yearning:

a rainbow streams. Two pieces roam from one

and as the spiraling dance

turns around in romance

i dare to face what has begun.

(my thoughts give way

to a magnificent gray

that i buried beneath the rainbow)

the cloudy d d a a z y e s, surround me.

but, the gray excavation

from my burning meditation

is not now how it was;

it is what it has and it is what it’s spun.

It is what i see. It has to be one.

The flowing sensation

of the rippling mediation

is greater than, even You.

me.

It can break through the world,

Emphasize its’ broken core.

make it crumble in defeat.

but see: it does not have

a heart to beat.

And it does not love.

It does not hold.

anything—but a desire

to tickle our senses.

to make Us believe

in Its’ greatness.