5 Kings Row.

we found our I am
in the gap between
the doing and the losing,
those days
of 5 kings row, we were
lost in the fright of
possibilities,
and wayward in the link
of causal conjunctions,

those borrowed walls
and spaces ,
blinked
the tremble of our deeds
and lost motion.
we found the inert instant
as the world skipped, and wobbled
the trepidation from our eyes
and sweating hands.

the heat of folded crisp
nights ruffeled
the staggering of our intent,
and the momentum led us
to this point of
reflection and mortification.

that summer of night,
the stream
that bubbled throw us quenched
our desire.
the babbling voices
that tangoed along toung
and splintered thought,
raged as
we stumbled the halos
of youth,
rocketing from fresh
to weary in one burnt
summer.

the disease of knowage
shivered our risk, numbering
our doors, inside and out
as they unlocked and locked.

our craving acked
the new skin in mid lust ,
and our dewy hesitation was a
choice. in our pause no bi focal
could unravel the
knots of our fate,

only time,
and the slow curing of
flesh,
and moon
could light through
the murk,
that boiled through our
days and dares,

distance gulped us whole,
some like Blair,
never tripped into time,
but fell instead to dust.

the miles of days and ground,
diminish, now near the end,
but sleep does come,
ragged,
at times sharp as a razor,
others,
as smooth as a breast,

and we lull to sleep,
and in so doing
release the world
to unfold and right
its self
from the wobble
we shook,

the causal chains
unclasp, for a brief
reprieve,
and release,
till the slow
curing of flesh
and we grow weary
of our I ams,
and breath the dust
of instead,
and before sleep
longingly drift to the
ash covered summer
of 5 kings row.
,

For Blue

The blue anguished me into
the yonder of grief and
ozone of despair,
the thunder tumbled
along the burnt sky,
and eased along the
road , to the scar
between sky and earth,
bleeding the gap between I and the
world.

the wind of passing,
twirls and flutters this lone
voyager,
and the road shakes and stomps,
as I pass
in the skip of lightning
roped in the twisting
sound of sky, and drip of blue.

liquid blue noosed me,
surrounded, and ties my eyes, bound
hands, and voice,
and webbed the crisp maybe
into me.

I longed the crashing night for you,
until the waves and swelling
subsided,
and the blue, unwrapped me
from the yonder of certainty,
and the tendrills of
thunder embroidered you
into my flesh.

until, the blue of you,
wrapped me,
in brown earth, and silver storm,
till only
new blue glinted through.

Kierkegaard's leap

i felt your eyes
deflate,
lids droop, light leaked out.
your chest heaved.


the crackle and hiss of the
fire, noosed your marble eyes
and tumbled you into the
flames.

your eyes now opaque,
trailed the smoke as it swerls and dips
its tango to oblivion,
from the twitching flaims.

across the vast gulf of
darkness and silents,

i reached.

my dispair,
absorbed the silents
swallowed the darkness.

my tremmering fingers,
traced the frail dry lines of your hand.

seeking solace, warmth,
attempting to collapse the vastness
between us.

i felt your hand
empty,, expire, with a shiver
of sorrow, and a tremble of
resignation.

your eyes and hands opaque,
as the expanse
swallows us.

i desperate and anxious
lept.

Epiphany

You, under my hand,
become more than skin and tingle and
moist throb, more than wish and promise and
spasming possibility.
You become new, and each
unraveling of you,becomes the trembling
unfolding of wonder and mystery.

You, under me,
becomes that urging moment
that drives my flesh to
swell and expand
and enter into you.

You, under my hands,
unfold, swell and drip anew,
as if my hand shave never known
those warm secreted places that draw me in

You surround me in you,
and for the moment, the moment
blurs and streaks,
and blurs in the pull
till the final
spasming of wonder.

You, under me,
becomes more than you under me.
Your unraveling becomes araveling of us both.
Skin and nerve, once dormant,
shakes alive and strums and hums,
till the opening and unfolding of
your shrouded mystery.

You, under me,
holding me moist and tightand warm,
in the crease of your being,
and your pulling and squeezing
in the surround that you are
swells me beyond me into you.
Then
one final epiphany
and you swallowing tenderly that
fleeting piece of me
that your mystery awakened.

Tempist

out of the white blinding
tempest
you came to me;
you lent forward, through my indecisions,
into me,
and out of the storm.

i hung suspended from my self,
lost in a noose of smoke and doubt;
betrayed by knots and breath.

the snow blinded me, and still
i walked beyond the blizzard and frost,
into and out of a numb, futile quest.

i came back stinging,
skin washed out
eyes split, blinking loss and
ash.

but you without snare,
captured me, with
eyes of spring,
and palms that sprouted allure.