Don’t you think I want love? Don’t you believe I would stop failing and navigate the edge of this high climb if I could? Instead, it’s the darting look this way and that, too fearful for the next reach up and too goddamn weak to just let go. Stay and suffer. Live and murder the […]
Read MoreReplace those lyrics airing themselves into this open, inebriated air where the conversation flows like a pour from a rotten tap, foamy and stuttering with pause. Fleetwood Mac serenade. The banal drive of pop palp, why not just call it “Sex on a Stove” and have Stevie serenade Lindsay, have Christine McVie lament John. Their […]
Read MoreVolley and gambit, crazed lassos of reckless curiosity cast and tightening around this, that, a thing there and a world gleaming in new wonder; oh how you’ve divined the water of life and air of love from a world too often fraught with tremble and disease. You unearthed the well-spring of rejuvenation, unsullied the gorgeous […]
Read MoreGet my science My inglorious monolith Gleaming like a wet spire Left to inspire The quiver, shake, shudder Of breathless ecstasy And a soul back-broken, Half-intent and bent Wondering why this wasn’t home And the cordial moan Was a sip when a draft beckoned Begged and swore The cuss of yearning An unblessed prayer Where […]
Read MoreAs if they were Those hands, Those lips That mouth. The spill of salt and lust Is a dream ready for real, The Pinocchio magic Of a lonely heart Searching for complete; Daring for connection And the firm grip, Stroke, Flinch Of shuddering release. In the end it’s quiet, An ecstasy awaiting The ecstatic. A […]
Read MoreThis faith awarded is a gift of trust so welcome, so cherished. A tire swing of joy, were childhood never ending. A belief in the sanctity of day and healing through touch, like kissed booboos for even the deepest abrasions. These lips, tongue and hands understand healing. They understand the true purpose of their creation […]
Read MoreHistories are reset, fears locked away as if discarded instruments set back in their felt-lined cases and then hidden to collect dust in the back of closets; glimpsed occasionally as reminders of failed melodies, but no longer haunting rooms with discord. Cast off all the rest as if it were possible to be a blank […]
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