You think I dont know it, but amongst
Your greenhouse kisses you scent of something else...
In the sweetest sway; in the blurry line between
the dreamscape and the disembodied reality...
Egg shells dance in dandelion ponds
filled with germinating tadpoles and ant horses...
Midway the slope
where two clandestine faults seem to collide...
a songbird cries, and the dull ache of
loneliness creeps in like an assassin...
blackbirds sing the mourning birds in –
and i echo their songs of lament...
Things finish, at times
Things make Sign, at times...
Were you near rebirth?
To dive in pure water...
Dreams, captured, held
and nursed against the...
I. Waking Up
it is this heavy weight i cannot shake...
This woman is not a woman.
she is a sort of bendable agony...
When a man standing on soil
With feeble legs wants to go a mile...