On wet leaves

 We went together, smooth and directly
As fine as the fittings between feathers
As she adored us
In the open mouthed softness of her breast
While we ‘became’ reflections of her sun
Goldenrod globes on peppered layers
Leaning on top of the dark
Something microscopic
Flooding the blood around our
Shimmering creamed trunks


To die there, was life everlasting
Eden in its forbidden magic, between hands
And the blooming pedals of thorns and
Her held rose. Depending on her
An uncharted depth, as vast as waves
Through a sweetly salted ocean, the days
And afternoons of waiting in limp heat
Sections of cool citrus, or
A halved corpse, shaped perfectly
Above the opposite side of myself

Knowing something’s more…

The world tries hard
To crumble my bones, but never
Hard enough:

Today I stood at the window
Still as stone, watching

The sun sink into the ground
For more then an hour, I

Let my eyes adjust to the fading
Purple light, to the tortured sky

Till the tentacle that anchors
Everything became visible, just

Beyond the soft curve
Of the horizon, as it detached

And settled back down, into the
Shapeliness of its the womanly arch

And you know what you want
You want to be carried away from

Your fruitless labor, somewhere else
Birth to crows and vapor, a husk

As your former self falls dead on
The floor, all flattery failed,

All history erased,  more and more, then

The end of the print