Baths are a curious thing,
That I would lie in one, serene,
For hours.

The water, once clean
Washes off all that was mean
Then I wrap myself up in towels.

It’s a place where I dream,
Of far-off traces, I would see
And poetry inspired.

It's also a pool where I can grieve,
Catching all my tears for reprieve
And leave relieved.

the bar was dark cave.

Dixie sang a song
and I pretended
she was singing to me.

two amateur fights,
2 black eyes
and a broken nose.

(and i couldn't get the silly grin off my face.)

"there is something beautiful
about the fall

to the canvass," I tell her,
"the sweet dreams only of you."

Dixie shook her head,
"why do you fight
when all you do is lose?"

"if you don't fight
you've already lost."

Dixie said I was crazy
and i scared her.

"but Dixie
you are my only friend.
we'll pull the stars down from the sky,
set the wicked night on fire."

Dixie tried hard not to,
but she smiles.

and there is something graceful
about the fall, golden leaves. the brevity
and the cooling air

and the nights we had by the lake.

a silent embrace...her warmth lingers against me,
a quiet tenderness beyond touch
and all we knew was a timeless "now."

deep red blood dripping onto the floor
bright red roses swaying in the breeze

orange prison jumpsuits walking in the yard
orange carved pumpkins on the porch

yellowed skin as kidneys fail
yellow sunshine streams through the window

dark green mold spores entering your lungs
vibrant green grass freshening the air

darkening blue ocean water pulling you under
clear blue sky calling peace to the turmoil

purple poison dart frog toxins seeping into your skin
purple flowers in bloom decorating the garden

silence filling all the gaps
until silence reigns supreme

-and you too will bow down
waiting for the voice that sets you free

marriage is for the most part undertaken by folks
but us eunuchs, some made so by God
fill a place less travelled, but just as wonderful.