Exoskeleton of silver frost
pigment of longing
lashes now iced branches
liplined blue blood shoreline- where his boat docks, comes and goes-
round her warm dusty rose
her wide fruit mouth,
his aftertaste acrid on her tongue;
Long after he's gone.
She turns to words of others to be taught patience,
to cure her unfilled-vacancy when left-
to her own devices, as they say.
Motel light flashing, cheap, winking, men chase after her- with no worth,
she closes her eyes tight, pretends she's some other place.
Swears by existentialism, and all the rest-
most everything holds a truth when glanced at right-
discovers common ground laced in other perspectives-
Loves to live in another's eyes- craves flight-though, may never get there.
In his eyes
clairyoance is unbreakable
impossibly strong like diamond.
Human mind like sky
always cycling, a perfect circle-
Mind's colour palet changes from day to day-
never painted the same twice-
There is no possible duplicity in mind-
we're more original than we think,
She's always falling, learning, pulling splinters from her knees
bleeds to earth, feels the pain-
of touching soft skin hard-
to frozen winter loam,
is grateful, reminds her she is- yes, indeed alive still-
green moss- to cushion afterward.
She never cries for fear, for hatred or for heart-
Surround her here-
Blunt colour against the niveous spraining-
in that wood,
Red holly berries.
Wreath of the woods-
crowns of the pure hearted children that play there-
Canopies of woven bramble cover-
to another place
The only thing creeping in
are her poinsetta petals, (or are they) leaves like brick-
tasting the sprain