*** I have nothing to give but emptiness and one hundred words for rain. motes of eternity float through the sunbeam that began. it's enough and it is. see the darkness in my eyes when I feel the walls. there's no mystery in your hands but in your gaze deer vanish into cedar & letters fade to white. dream pairings & memory of numbers. colors of night. iris & roses heart in hand I offer myself like a prayer to you in reflected light. it's all right I'll wait for you and the kindness of your gaze there's nowhere else to go and we divide evenly into each other in the dying light. back yard fantasies & old guitars your brown & my blue brown & blue Be sure Be sure Be true abstract thoughts float like motes of eternity in empty bottles. BLACK PENCILS in a raku cup. my deep love of your mysteries & your fine brow. black leather & angel thoughts it's all too much & just enough for dreams to fall & waves to erase my words what dreams of yours can I share? centuries of crumbled words & forgotten love. black needles & fingers of light moving in the dust of a million stolen afternoons the soft skin of plums in a clay bowl. [ braid ] blonde afternoons & sweet sleep, slow love. we're strong & deep in time, wreathed in flesh & prayer *** phases of the moon. roses cut in black velvet. coffeeshop angels, Mexican daisies, & old telescopes. 9 black spirals on an empty jug West Coast jazz LPs in an old vodka box in the garage. the concrete Buddha in firelight is empty, all colors being born of blackness. [ leather cracks & the rain comes in a flash of light. ] yellow grass by the tracks. I think of my old guitar. *** zero azalea Canterbury love. the sweetness in your touch is smooth black ink and April skies. daily angels. wellsprings of love wellsprings of desire lost in an ancient land building a past with a pen torn pages on the pavement. the compass cracked on the way down & no one knows my name. I can't clear my mind of angels & my name's on the wind. I live in peripheries of blackness, drink from black bottles & sink into the ancient brown eyes of night. dust gathers in empty bottles on the soft shoulder of time helixes of time in a cup of water. [ lonesome blankets & sand in my boots. wool stars & brown fences. ] I would sleep empty & wild in the shadows of angels. the compass cracked on the way down. named for angels in velvet rooms of compassion [ the parked car rocks in the dusty gust. ] no one knows my true name, including myself. Silver Noon. Star Green. Raphael. Raphael. to see the cathedral of light yellow ribbons of paint crumble on old asphalt. the history of dust eludes. I remember your name in darkness & pray for the light. you've got me we are sculptures of helixes of light ink bleeds like an artery of night. the highway's white lines are stitches on an old guitar case in the backseat of time. my heart is ancient & my aim is true but the glint of sunlight on old chrome & in your dark brown eyes keeps its mysteries nights too slow to break. the compass cracked on the way down I said & no one knows my name shadows of moving flesh on sunlit stone time escapes wordlessly into the night. nothing but the scent of whiskey, skin & dust, the light attached to a dream.
the sands shift and the way is lost.