that glow

the sparks where the remember happens.
i like those final ticks where they're bright
and i remember.

though the beams crumbled &
windows shattered,
my me is iron with the 2014 count
down.

i'm brimmed with those that
like my shine, even when it's
mottled in crazy.

& i'm chasing path that means
healing & right....even if that means
empty bank accounts.

& i have found my place. &
grown roots that that run
deep & won't be threatened by the
wind whispers or smoke.

here's to a shine & the ram & a new 3 hundred & sixty-5.

solstice

sometimes the shine doesn't come through.
brick is brick
light or shadow
aside.

maybe the bricks need to shatter & split so
the flame can come through.

brick doesn't know how to burn.

maybe that would make the winter
harsh
melt &
spring could bloom early.

they say honey's sweeter
& fire seems to fair well with
the bees & their nectar.

those brick words & their
vinegar dose
seem to be more fight than
they're worth.

does he know

i wonder
if you think about me.

i wonder if they're right
& you marked me the day we first met.

i wonder if you knew
that i would try to destroy your world
in hopes of getting mine back.

i remember
when i thought that you were the wounds you claimed
& that maybe i could save you.

i remember thinking
that i was fire & i'd burn you first.

but that night came.
& you tore my soul from body.

remember what you said to me?
you told me to give myself
you told me to love you.

instead, you took, &
you decided my bones were love enough.
you didn't look satisfied after you were through.

maybe that's why my veins run dry &
days like today, i'm still your shell.

& when the after came
you chattered those sorry words, & said that you were broken too,
& that i mattered.

but you forgot to mention it was
only to the point that my tongue controlled your fate.

now you're buried in concrete
& somehow i'm the evil & you
befell my victim.

tonight i wonder
if you think about me in your shackles.

was it worth it?

"biophily"

end is dead,
and that's what we loathed.
the shift & the fluid feels so
sandy &
unsafe.

but then the concrete & its rough
feels so ragged
& makes our art bleed.
why are eyes so lopsided
& we miss it?

i guess free means shift
& it gets locked when we
love solid.
i need to toe dip
& lose myself in the float.

nights.

i shattered them.

all the ones with the crooked brows

& their brothers too.

their shards feel good in my mouth.

& the ones left,

they mean love. even when they leave,

i know they'll be back.

& my hand will be held once adventure

ends in home.

the magnificent might be shinier

but it doesn't always know unconditional.

blood & glass & those warm hands

keep my grin upright.