the eviction notice

pulse

warm sand

blue like glass

light flows through us

moon gathers the waves under her silence

our electricity blends into sound

whispers of rose

tinted dream

hold me

tight

move

slowly

the spirit

into my place

where the gods turn into earthly mortals

and will be toiling like the first Adam

and the daughters

of giants

polish

stone

contact high

your fingers in my mouth

last night

your grey eyes pierce

the defense

green eyes beg for mercy

fingers palms around my breasts

your lips have sealed

my arguments

the weight of your command

over me while my legs lock you in

nothing about us

is so simple

while our breathes spar under the stars

the waves have chosen sides

an angry surge and im on top

but your hands clutch my hips

ive fallen under your rhythm

studying the pleasure on my face

rolling like the ocean

you gain command of the tautness

of my body

denying me nirvana by the shore

the traces of urgency on your wrinkled brow

are buried in my tangled hair

fingers locked in final battle

we come to a mutual agreement

wasted

on the inside of the room
the floor is my alter
laying down my hands
again i surrender
with a wet smile upon my face

none was wasted in the
empty harvest of the heart
and the milky way is far
from me in this hour
i most desire

most in your opinion
was the thrift that
you did lay and probationary
periods of my feelings
judged to be abstained
from me forever

ccr on highway one

it all falls on formal shores,

Mr. Fogerty,

the rain you talk about.

the circles are no more,

the pulse neither fast or slow.

but Mr. Fogerty, my time for all is gone.

the sun hard and warm,

and i see the rain soft and cold.

yes, you sang to me long ago.

in the sand where glass is born

in the image of the bones.

the rain it lingers in the holes.

through the blood a soul is told,

live forever all alone,

no more fear to wander.

Mr. Fogerty i see your rain,

in the wrinkles of the pain.

to a life of no complain.

to the wars of the remorseful heart

like an engine in the 8th.

no more fear to wander.

and the circles in the eye

Mr. Fogerty for this time,

shedding rivers in the light.

across the fire of the sun,

skies are empty,hearts are down.

and the rain will keep its distance.

night

looking at the opulent west terminally

the west is a direction of science and de-evolution

the west has birthed and aborted

the west holds my key to survival

maybe

the west is where it’s at

the west is less frightening at night

the west is my coast

an edge between a dry crypt

and a watery eternal post

manifest destiny cowboys and ghosts

all looked to the west

falling off the edge

to a sagging universe

the west is not frightening at night

cellular levels impaled by expensive

alchemy

blood runs so cold it’s hot

life veins decapitated from their heart

to no avail

my apple has rolled out into the ocean