Still Water

i came upon a wayward stream

and plunged therein

to choke a dream

and with intent to suffocate

and conscious self obliterate

lest ruminations fulminate

my flooded lungs did then deflate

i rise face up, in silted shade

my skin dissolves near everglade

becoming perch for dragonfly

in bloated state

my dream did die ..

 

Masks

i know not this language that you speak

a diffident dialect

of muted mystique

a dyslexia of consonants

mélange of vowels unique

i lay my head on hollow expanses

to listen for pulse or anemic answers

lulled by your dwindling bright

surrendered; betrothed to sanguinous night

of blood pooled and clotted

lest mine flow, besotted

by shifting shadows

in morning we find us

shivered and listless

flint hidden, embers blown

masks lowered

together, alone…

The Selfish Writer

i have discovered my difficulty

with reading you

for I am a writer

intently gripping the quill

and despite your florid attempts

you cannot alter the will

of my cursive compulsions to beguile

 

frequent attempts are made

to enter the frantic foray of your words

my inner computer jumbles with errant code

and with no service centre to call

  a hyperkinetic cursor marks my disquieted mode

 

for I am a writer

curl your fingers by my pages

gorge full the entrancing phrases…

 

now enlightened with my intentions

i revel in my frantic detentions

auguring your

ambrosial

attentions

Scattered

what is it that makes me want to disrupt dandelions?

scatter congregates of delicate

into frantic disarray

just to see where they’ll lay

.

i have wild silver in my veins

scorched sublingual stains

i am an errant child grown

into a childlike woman

defining my own

..

the script of my life

shall be scrawled with charcoal tip

and when expunged

by the torrents of time

carbon ash, crumbled, finally freed

buoyant, in breeze swirling

with dandelion seed

The Story

i set myself to read a manuscript

on velvet parchment of skin

delve into a dominion of dermis

revealing the unknown within

hieroglyphs reveal under candlelight

wax smeared commas thereupon take flight

and hallowed breath splatters bold exclamation marks

on the virgin pages of flesh

illuminated quotation sparks

punctuated carnal coronation

turns pages

onto wilder ruminations

from paragraphs pithy and frail

so the story we long for

shall unveil

The Feast

you marinated me in elderberry wine

to titillate tongue tip

pungent, yet refined

you added a pinch of something dark

a fervid flavor, undefined

caressed the scars with coarsened salts

in sweet savory sting sublime

..

and when the time was ripe to take

we sizzled luxuriating on fired grate

juices mingling to caramelize

sybaritic sizzle of searing sighs

flesh thus sealed, tending to underdone

a tantalizing feast

the first of many

had

begun…