Settled

into a shallow depression


The small of your back
is an oasis
of warm skin

My mouth is bitter
corruption
dry swollen tongue
poisoning from the inside

My ears are coffee filters
keeping the dregs
of offhand remarks

I understand
The small of your back
is an oasis

My heart rests
in radiated heat
the soft hum
of your wavery voice
on sandy shores

First Kiss

snow was a glowing halo

by streetlamp
we spoke in whispers
silence shouted
burning
a touch
a tingling in my fingertips

Who Made Us Delicate?

Walking a knifes edge biting flesh
grating bone on cold steel

In a harsh light
shining from somewhere
we are blind

In a black expanse
we cant tell
depth or breadth
reaching out
breathing clouds
in the cold

All we feel
the weight of ourselves
pressure on skin
before it parts
the dull sting
lingering

The New Angels

eyes a wide aperture    
                           overexposed

                 This is a picture
         of my Grandma

             This is where I was

When everything is washed-out

white is whole
                              complete
         like the new angels

                         when she died
       in the mountains

Why do we dream in monochrome

                    I remember vivid
        the mountains
                       the tangy pine

             only the new angels see as is
as we are still
         dreaming in earth tones

                          how close I felt
                  how far she was

sleeping in dust and clay

Her head

Hangs black silk
the dark garden tresses
of something ancient
like the night falls
waves and cascades
spilling wet
down her back

Incense
makes the dark heavy
the air palpable

Her hair hangs
the generations
whose heads slept
in this garden

Ancient eyes of lanterns
knowing shadows
awake and alive
telling of old songs
deeds done for glory
and silk in its vivid colors
dripping down the time
weaving
in and out of moments
binding them

The Garden

All words were poetry
springing fresh
shaped from new lips

Adam spoke names
that had meaning

Each animal
sleek shone
lithe with new coats
and beneath
the ripples
of new sinew

Then Eve
stepped from creation

Poetry found a home
bone of bone
flesh of flesh

Words given Adam
stretched
broke
in defining this new thing

On The 7th Day He Rested

We each looked out
on the home
we helped create

and knowing what would come

went anyway