my head has gone to heath
mottled stone of lichen
passing steel or passing sun
under rain and dampening
cold the wind whistles wending
through the heath stones
that make of my head
slender spaces shimmer quiet
thin be'twixt and 'tween
here upon my hillock of dream
wearing other’s faces
i saw you stealing kisses
the consummate thief
you are
but i can see through
your disguise and lies
i can see a million miles
away
you know? it made me laugh
left laughing ‘til morning came
i tip my hat at your
audacity
while everyone is singing
their empire songs, we
slip away to the night
there is no trust for
the watchmen watching
with halberd's shining
white in the spotlights,
their axes at our necks
we could be heroes, too
a bulwark against
the storm, but first...
a kiss before dying
they oxcart me
into deep wood
to cover me
with leaves
"a blanket,"
they say
"to keep you
warm at night,"
they say
before they
drift off in
the way of
autumn maple,
scarlet against
the frost
it is the guilt
that makes
them so
but
this is where
i belong.
she winters...
growing colder
as nights draw longer
she ice shaves scrape
her nails white & blue
alone in
her crystal room
to ash her hair
at least none dare
to slip beyond
the chill
because here is where
she winters
and winter here
she does still
lips curve the crest of breast
jasper ocean eyes to drown
carving thigh lace with night
wordless of the wind sigh
for fingertipped dew glides
riding of the moon with night
kissing over café bars
you wipe lipstick from
my lips with your thumb
leaning over
hungry for more
you chide and say
just a taste because
patience is important
even in the dream
those halcyon days
we slipped beneath
wrapped in wave
and calm, in the before of
those days we summered
tangled in locust drone
in high elms lagging
speaking softly in
summer fade with
our ghostselves in haze
waiting for to begin
sleeping spoon under star
blue moon, turquoise nights
running whitewater overhead
everything path stays on path
running shadowed forest
embraced of moment's arms
to quell all dreaming
long black snake riding
writhing at land's end
days i tire of thinking —
must be something more
just around the bend
pull over waysides
drinking travel mug brew
to stare at what daybreak
sends