Remember

There are no words
To capture the design
Of Infinite mind.
I cannot see the image,
I can only feel
The Truth of my essence,
Affirm the presence,
And know deep in my soul
That the past
Is no indication
Of what is possible,
And what is not.

Someday

This barren wasteland
Will not shrivel into decay
For someday
The rains will come.
And someday
So will he.

A Scorpio thing

Yesterday
Unquenchable,
This thirst for desire,
For a fallen angel's fire
To swell the rivers
And heat the waters
In which I secretly dwell.
And today...
Insatiable,
This hunger for sanctity,
Kneeling in abstinence,
Dry from the fire,
And seeking a transcendence
Higher than desire.

Fingers

He is Autumn air,
Crisp and clear,
With sharpened,
Slick corners
I both desire
And fear.
And he hides
In my head,
Crouched,
Fading green,
With a Coors
In one hand,
And an expression
Serene.
I tremble
At the sight
Of his eyes
In twilight,
As Aspen musk
Lingers,
And Scorpio fingers
Interlace
With Fall’s kiss,
Again.