ocean--floor

There is a coldness and an unfamiliarity sinks in, the new feature of disillusionment as hands reach for the clouds. But the clouds have returned to the Earth and we are walking in the sky.

1. The rain is around your skin-- You are standing while water falls, avoiding your form. Only your footprints are dry. I met you in the rain one time. I couldn't even drive yet, and you were inside, came up behind me while I turned away. I wrote words about that day, like willow branches and the spring that was to come. 2. You were wrapped in armor-- But you embraced me. I never touched your skin, only that protective layer. I couldn't even see your face through the latticework. You and I wrote words once. Once or twice. Or once upon a time. 3. That night-- It was a mistake. I claimed you as my own. 4. And everything

I am a mess of hair and flesh sinking into softness. You are cleaner than the air, your bones so small under your skin. And you're praying. You are shrinking in your world, and you are sinking in. You recite for crowds - you're so big now. But you are brittle and dust will return. I will walk out of this desert, and you can stay to break there.

The force of silence blows me back against the wall. Spoken words filter through walls and ceilings; reading so rarely creates this space. And yet, here we stand, in corners, plastered over by years and stories and finally the landlord's last coat of paint. The outside world is coming inside. There is no hiding anymore when your worth ceases its invisibility. So settle down, don't stray. Hold on to words through walls and from walls. Let the new current rise up to meet you. Drifting isn't all bad, but sometimes you have to make your own way without the luxury of adolescence. There's no stand-in for your mind. One day, you'll

FINDING YOU IN CIRCLES IN FORMS OF THE SOUL AS IMAGES SCROLL BY IN THEIR MADNESS MADNESS IS BURNING MOMENTS ARE STILL YOU BEND YOUR SPINE EXPOSING YOUR NECK TO THE CLOUDS WITH THE UNIVERSE ON YOUR COVERED FACE YOU'RE FADING LIKE PASTEL SMOKE ACROSS YOUR EYES IN BOREDOM OR EXPLOSIONS UNCONTROLLED YOU ARE TRYING TO TOUCH STARS TO WEAVE THEM INTO YOUR BED SHEETS THE SPECTRUM CAST ACROSS YOUR SKIN YOUR SKIN WHEN MY FINGERS ARE SILHOUETTES AND YOU LIGHT UP STAGED AND BOUND I HAVE WORDS ACROSS MY VISION IN THE DISTANCE THERE'S YOUR POWER LINES THERE'S YOUR CROSS YOUR HOLY LAND IS OUT OF MY REACH AND I AM CONTENT TO CLOSE T

if words didn't falter                over all this time    would alignment cease to grow?                there's nothing for me to say.                words weren't stolen;                              they just dried up.          

You left it behind. You left it all behind. Off across the ocean with you and yours, Even if only a strait! From behind fire and eyes The watch continues. Once twins, now nothing, You depart for the island. No more wasteland for that pair. It hits too close to home, As here I stand Looking out over undulation, Cold and grey, And see how far you've gone.

          Bringing down darkness: The evening dew descending          On the quiet leaves.

Winter is white silence muffled under blankets of snow Crooked trees scraping at the edges of the sky. Bringing down darkness in ice. Here is emptiness in gloved hands. Scratches in lace, trees darken their contrast, water seeping down. The earth is still, the voice is empty. Words are meaningless