this life

this patter in the morning is invading my dream my waking is adulterated by strange symphonies what world is this which I am opening my eyes to? The first light of spring the first unfolding unfurling of a snow white

faith in fades

like Spring on the marsh your thought dances across the tendrils and fibers sprouting from my tender skin with plummeting earnestness you seize the breath I have yet to sing for the night in which we intertwine ourselves amongst memories

the reflection is daunting on days like this when the white air pricks my skin and the gray of the street seems impossible to exist so colorless my body desires to float into the space between your arms the closed

work warmth into this fiber.

I alone sat. quietly with qualms at my back and beckoning this thought came burgeoning the breast welling up with fury of all these thousand years. For how could my longing be in vain? How has this world changed in

Sweet Calamity

Sun rose and I found myself with you in this heatwave brazen people stuck in this peculiar realm visceral cages bound and same minds breathing thoughts intertwining at this I react body trembling let go to you and all flows