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
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
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
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.
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
