poetry

lost is not a feelingit is a place at the cornerof your lips..ora clock ticking timespent in waiting.it is a […]

clench your fist           it slips fasterrunning through your fingers abundanceyou cannot hold onto.letting go is inevitable                sands of Time                       Time

are there months to die in?or years to live for-i haveneither lived nor diedin the hours of restitude sitting cross

a face       some thoughts                a few desiresdangling from the ends of   

descentcomeslonginglysearching for you:wrapping your carcassinsoftness;light against dark-nowrest your tired selfaginst themountains;place your load onits shouldersit can carry you (he couldn’t).

(dedicated to women who once were girls ) the breeze is rustling through your being tonight;a damp space ~an ancient 

you have been shredding one limb at a time.it does not happen suddenly;you know how it works:there is a method.but then

shadows have storiesof who was hereand then leftthe patch of warmthwhere you satwhere i satwhere we satnursery rhymes of pat-sat-matfaded

turn      ingspinningturning on my own axisslow and not steadysometimes i pass the moon and we talkshe brews lemon grass kehwadrizzles  cinnamon

little red spilled        over   tonightfrom my overflowing       rather         discontent               heart      gushing it’s way                into my aura i want to