ice blue

Today the sky
matched your eyes.
And walking a delicate line
between now and then
in this space of
anger cleansed,
soul on the mend,
memories take hold,
breaking me slowly
into beautiful shards
that shine like ice blue
winter skies
that light and ignite
the bitter and bright,
and the wrong and right
memory of your love.

Imprisoned

I am
the Lady of Shallott
watching in the glass
as Lancelot passes by
in various disguise
(as him, and him, and her)
always seeking,
but never reaching
beyond these prison walls
wandering empty halls
vainly praying
for something or someone
to save me
from myself.

Ghost II

When the soft hand of spring
Caresses the fragrant earth
With delicate drops of west coast rain
That drip from the tips of my lashes
I will come to you in the night
Draped in gossamer white
For I am nothing
But a ghost who haunts these docks
Translucent skin and raven locks
With fingers that ache to reach
Through soft gray fog
And time and space
Into the place
Where I lost my life
Burned at the stake
By the crimson fire
Of the tortured desire
Flaming in your eyes.

Fledgling

The indigo sky
assembled too quickly
before the back drop
of yesterdays dream
drapes the wings
that barely shelter
this badly bruised
fledgling we conceived.

Stalker

I cradle the photograph
I probably shouldn’t have
And certainly shouldn’t cherish
Transfixed and transfigured
A stalker at the alter
Of him.

Untitled

I rise to meet you
Like the oceans swell
Aching to kiss
The moon.

Done

I suck down my pride
Like a whore sucks cock,
Swallow hard,
And rinse your taste
Away
With a smooth shot
Of grace
I bless and curse
This game we’ve played,
And done,
I collect my pay,
And wave the
White flag
Of defeat.

Nothing new

I cradle the weight
Of karmic law
Alone.
Oh... she senses,
But she cannot see.
The tale of siblings
Too intertwined
To be stripped apart by sin,
A punishment that she still lives,
That she still breathes.
And now,
Her anger and her fears
Pierce parchment,
Crisp and corroded,
With fire, forbidden desire,
And the memory of
Cotton gowns
Worn and blue,
While we held each other
Scraping enamel from
A crumbling pew.
In Akashic temples
I find our records,
Rested and restored,
I read quickly,
Significantly moved,
While she stumbles
Over a language
Unknown by most,
And spoken by few,
While I weep once again,
For knowing
This is nothing
New.

November

Memories and fantasies
Combine, collide,
And intertwine,
Until I am tangled
In teardrops
Unnamed
While untamed lions
Scratch at the threshold
Of November
Before October’s
Even had a chance
To fade.

Day 2

As each layer peels away
And every sunrise on each new day
Illuminates me
I weep with wonder
At the clarity of all I see
Awakened
Aware
And overcome
As angels lean in over me with
White winged whispers in my ear
Dripping through my soul
Saturated, shaking, singing
And soaring out of control
Too overwhelmed to know
That this is only
The beginning.

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.

Cotton Blue

Tonight I will sleep,
Ensconced in
Cotton blue,
Sound and sober,
And dreaming
Of you.