i kiss you with pictures
windswept and forlorn
with winter racing across
the unfrozen pond
everything stained scarlet,
pierced pale & bruised black
pricking skin in hoar
to bring bright on pink
i kiss you in pictures
burning as flame draws fire
burrow deep, now
under the root's tangle
bury me deep inside
& draw me ever down
Tag: betwixt and between
with pictures
to see
this nothingness,
a rope around my feet
marked in stains & aches
burnt remains
sullied & unclean
grasping at waters
waiting blind for to see
go away cold
i give hills emptycasting a glam
ever to changeling
given to folk & cunning
ever at wild, ever of wode
given to seething & wood
hands see & eyes hear
many the calling beneath
bury the heart under leaves
bury the bone under loam
ever to changeling
given to folk & cunning
ever at wild, ever of wode
given to seething & woodwaystation waiting
at the waystation waiting
on the medicine train
with a spirit at the wander
all the stars in glittershine
pouring towards winter stone
i've enough of
mirage and mirrors
all sacrificed now in
pressing thorn to bone
whistle calling
as razor cuts the dawnmornings
ephemeral as morning fog
she drifts all hither and thither
unaware of the ghost
residing in plain sight
with her burning
all haunts go to ground
shackled in place and
never to fade awayunimagine
i unimagine shared madness
wrapped of kohl eyes twinned
and mirroring the within
unimagine a phantom recollect
of promises bound in lace
another madness, another dream
another unworthy
we ghost nighttime streets
cobbled in maritime fog
forgetting unimagined
shared madness together for
a dreaming winterlongmemento
laying snow to the ready
her hair tumbles down
night against the pale
i give to the weary
a wanting to the wait
pictures with shadow hands
wind speechless stole
blood lips silent kiss
to hum at barbed wire
can you remember?burning low
i so ghost the slip/fade
the lips, they move
the words, they say
lost to the flux/shift
miming animal faces
in heavy rains
it is only echo, right?
i ask night burning lowwhispers
duty bound
to do away with sense:
can you firewalk
with me under a
tumblemoon, with
stars slicing eyes?
let our feet fail ground
before our wedding day
you & i laying down
rainy grey under
at the quayside...
—and i think you know
how this story ends;
with whispers wraith
kissing ears
as all suns bury down

