waking

having a body has always felt so alien
as if a colt were dropped into the moon
not knowing where colt and moon begin and end
both luminous and ungainly
an inherit awkwardness with skin & bone
why I've dreamed the taste of wool & stone

heart.
this heart
is
familiar
green & fluttering
     bound by tides & winds
to beat thrum beat to some ancient song
from the lips of aubergine pearls
birdsong girl

what strange creatures we are to think
   and be
connecting not connecting dependent on the fractal structure of stardust
so fragile we seem to be
yet
we are wondrous--
a colt dropped into the moon

this body
this heart of Sun

the sun as it hides at dawn

the light of this morning breaks across the rooftops opal-pale-blue
a new day unfolding with the open promise of birdsong
crisp whisperings
woolen truth tied to wind & white
morning, oh morning!

dawn

dark

i am night

pervasive infinity beckoning to what we can not see
beyond
between
this black
this night

elevated longing for unexpected galaxies
owning the moon
pressed to stars and comets

daylight ... makes me weary

stretch

i have a remarkable ability to remain very present while at the same time traveling east in a direct
air-current line to where you are to sit in the warmth of your breath to inhale the very same air that you do while maintaining the illusion of presence and attention to all the things requiring said presence and attention as i lean upon the maple just outside my window feeling the harsh coarseness of its bark against the thin paper fragility of my skin and soul i can be tethered upon this land this life long enough to weave a coat from the tendrils of mind and memory tracing tracing back to you back to us and that day that you remembered remembered that we were always leaning one upon the other water to polaris fruit to hand board to nail ship to sea surrender to hollow skin to bark
amidst the smell of leaves burning hearts yearning hands leading souls all souls fly away to the point of ignition with light transfixed by the play of shadow and sun upon the very same maple's leaves turned to saffron sunshine cooling cooling to the march of winter's breath stay with me
stay. with. me.
here against that solemn dusty bark stripped of clothes and artifice and possibility

healing becomes a promise of illusion's hour 

Castanea

spiny burr
clustered on the branch
tufted husk of pale armor
guarding the cream upholstered flesh
softness smooth
grooves adhered tight to pellicle
gentle pressure popping free
one, two, three
sweet fruits to hold
of
umber rich revealed
seed to ripeness
outside
to
in
spine to furrow
hard to smooth
captive youth

bargain

This part:

spins words to tales to treaties bent
dappled in velvet homage to birds and the moon
giving weight to the quantum miasma thru dappled light
be still
be still
the blue jay becomes the shadowdancer
waking the sun 

the fabric of night

see me as vermillion
locked with a tiny key a thousand years old
tarnished
tempered
by wind & water rising, rising

press me to cerulean between arms of sage & milo
smelling of yesterday's storm
penny-copper sharpness
bright
bold

I am a first snow
where
the
earth that lies between the cracks in the sidewalk
baked by sun
mysteries golden in particles of glass--dust
tarnished
tempered
by wind & water rising, rising

rain falls
on a plum tongue waiting for a cotton memory

and
a pillow

skin coral-pink bells of pulsing weathered molecules
ozone of ash & death
life trembling
tarnished
tempered

feel my azure evergreen shimmer against your thigh
slight--open
to line & moonlight
rising, rising

see me as vermillion
there amongst the night