through the pores, she opens, though unwritten

through the pores, she opens, though unwritten

with air amidst her face and form

she breathes with open skin

she talks of flowers wilting through the pores

and angels wilting still-born

like an injured bird cast down to earth 

from tree-top withered song

the tangles of her theme unweave

as she breaks free from her cocoon

Myth is reborn...

Myth is reborn,

and scavenged for lice

that which feed on what feeds

together, 

in a self-same current

All is mist

and the faithful stroke of a complex sin

releases vapors of a self-same silence

together,

as these patterns recoil from birth

Eyes overcome the richness of a dilapidated beach...

Eyes overcome the richness of a dilapidated beach

by resting anchor on the surface of the sun

she speckles sight the way she speckles pigment

against the skin like paper thieving specters from the air

A weight of cherry heat, 

cherry oak and tears made marble

as with frost, the wind may cauterize this womb of softly curling vapors

Here, leaves have the quiver of light, 

and we, the sputter of words

As both glisten through a shell of compressed ash

 

we stop and listen for a voice

If I have it right...

If I have it right, 

(and chance will refute this theatre,)

then desire, too, will dissipate 

on the horizon of thought,

a glowing ember envisaged in a dream

         () () () () () () () () () () () () () ()

perhaps the mirror splices fate...

perhaps the mirror splices fate

the way water chisels stone

carving our expectations over centuries

though the mirror has its analogue in the question of the One

a vehicle of yearning is found in every gated crevice of the mind,

a mind that holds the expectant grasp of flesh and yet never holds it own,

tumbling for centuries over falls that gush unnoticed

Thoughts On Incongruity

Stealthy canopy is made to last, 

a cloth of fluid fibers 

that unrolls before the sun

...an orb as a symptom

of a whittling that pivots 

in a lasting state of latency

...a geometry that limits

the curvature of silence

in a lasting state of friction with 

the One that loves