For Those Who Want To Fly

pinpricks in life

touch

need

bleed

breed

the point

is always taken away

by the breath of me

flushed, naked

running fast through a field of

slow-motioned promise

it is beautiful really

the way the hope sways

makes you want to 

stick a finger in

swirl it this way

or that way

live in the moments

the good

the bad

knowing I am done

with the ugly

You can always smell the violet

drunk on illusion
my party stops at the point
where you begin.

Painted plastered
I sit on my chin

grin

can't help but wonder what life
has in store.

I don't know if I have enough of me.

plead with my insides to do right
my left turn is always pausing,
almost feels like

that garden that won't grow

you reach for me
touch my hand
and my calm begins to freak

I think

you can always smell violet
when you are being pulled through it

I will always  wonder
what heaven thinks while laughing;
the pointing is always some cause for direction

but the laughter catches me off guard
and now my chin hurts,

the ache of you is my comfort.

Simplicity

disengagement of standard rule,
all those pages blurring turns
across the scatter of smoke filled time

temperment sublime,
afterlife, aftershock under skies
that watch and judge

a pristine smudge
of beautiful eyes painting passages,
we'll walk through them or stumble at the gate

discovering beautiful fate
will slide through oblivion
shining freedom to fly

In the sky,
where you get to be you
and me, I.

Copper Cure

rough hands

reach through

tangle me

wash my hair with a penny

face the sun

pick me up 

for luck

I am windblown

soft, compliant

turn stones over and into

beautiful eyes that

stare goodbyes

I might crash beneath you

stop looking down

this metallic in me

flies under the sea

with the wind so still

this stubborn pale

swims hell-bent for

a copper cure

Images

just a little chance of touch

bent, static ache

only the sun came

free-bird surround sound
unchanged

she flew quietly,
beautifully away

and they slept

and had

no shame

Stoked

wrapped tight

into your frame

sweet-soul-bird feather shed

pecks my neck slowly

"And you are being so,"

< kind > and < nice >

my mind talks in circles

circles and circles

and "oh..."

contract < consume > 

for the love of God!

even though I'm pretty sure there isn't one at the moment

ignite 

this

siren's 

screeching 

blue 

hiss!!

< would you fucking please already!! >

just the smallest scrape of match

barely a whispered tongue blaze

this whole place 
is about to go up in flames

When I loved

Love is overrated

stagnated

sit you ate

crave the chase

flooding faster

give me face

bait the master

to pull sate

x-tra, x-tra rated

manipulated

the very way I hated

when I loved