when the sky blossoms mauve,
the words we marinated with...

an unsolved puzzle –
the words escape me...

you spill light into the evening sun;
lending warmth to an otherwise...

flesh wounds excise fragments of you,
while you’re torn between licking wounds...

of the lands that you and I know –
we know intimately, that this land...

we’ve run out of the primordial –
stalling stars, spinning chaotically...

as much wind you can gather in your lungs,
i want you to scream my name one last time...

i wish i could drape the sky on you tonight,
the sunset – the oranges, the reds, the yellows...

you are to my poetry like the stars
are to infinity. the verses that blossom...

you are a constant. you are light. you are
a wellspring of hope. you are on the cusp...

blackbirds sing the mourning birds in –
and i echo their songs of lament...

is it the madness of the
artist who is fueled by...