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Oh to let go and
be free to dance
like no one is
watching you
moving your
body with an
energy of youth
Hands lifted high
and spinning about
with eyes closed
to feel the music
Connections made
as bodies intertwine
in animalistic motions
with no cares as the
reality of the day is
lost in the sound.
losing you and it's effortless
redefining short and sweet,
a whiskey neat,
eight years, much shorter than the forever,
everyone's grand assumption feast,
wrongly assumed, love consumed,
making ***** of her and me
for believing,
and looking now,
as if it's almost
our own closing time,
the hour of our
just desserts

you lose yourself, asking yourself,
can a three legged stools
with two busted legs be
just merely rocky,
without another hand on the tiller~shoulder,
something

with haunting visions
of falling, failing, flailing,
down the stairs
victim of a stoning, or just ******,
gravity, the Blackhawk down,
the string puller, the no-reason reason

the slow descent,
so effortless, glassine smooth at first,
barely noticed, shrugged away like a small bruise,
then you cannot help to stop and forgive the incessant
wondering of how we got,
the confusion contusions,
now body bejeweled resplendent,
everywhere, in everything

you were once
a rock, a star,
with all the answers to the questions
she was about to ask,
your arm punched,
attached to an affectionate smiling,
for the perfection of our mutuality of
knowing

was her rock,
and now, quietly,
this last piece of jewelry consists of
a necklace of stones,
a choker of
glass pebbles in both our mouths

wry cry
realizing that the
darkness cracks of
busted and rusted,
are voluminous surround sound silences
breaking up,

either side of

*us
 Dec 2016 Dark soul
Corvus
Desire. It's the storm cloud that creeps
Across the skull and blocks the light of common sense.
It's the janitor with a hidden agenda
That doesn't allow any light bulb to come on.
A Svengali swinging a pendulum left to right,
Until the mind is at its complete beck and call.

Desire. It reaps millions of butterflies;
Grown in the stomach. Wanting to be free.
It's the cause of the tension in your body.
The tsunami in your eyes. The quaking of the hands.
Most importantly, it's the internal burning sensation
That spreads to become a hole in the heart.

Desire. It's the delicate crumbling of anxiety
That melts with the comforting warmth of relief.
The fire of temptation; burning so sweet
As sweat collects upon victims unknown.
The aching in the muscles, the knocking in the chest
Of a heart whose cavity has been patched up.

Desire. It's the patch that frays over time
And the hole is re-opened. Tears re-flood.
The trembling vocal chords and the cracking voice
That fall like foundations under searing heat.
The eventual destruction and its finality
That hit you with a dull metallic taste in the mouth.

Finally knowing that no matter how bad you want it,
You will never own it unless under its own terms.
Advice? Read the fine print.
 Dec 2016 Dark soul
b
scars
 Dec 2016 Dark soul
b
I'll trace your scars,
with my fingertips,

I'll lace the curves of your imperfections,
with my chapped lips,

I'll bury my nails,
in the flesh of your lethal spine,

I'll mold your broken heart,
until it becomes a piece of mine,

you dared to love my
self destructive self,

and i dared to,
kiss your morphine lips,
knowing that,
if i get a taste,
i'll never stop,
wanting more..
 Dec 2016 Dark soul
b
coffin
 Dec 2016 Dark soul
b

living,
is not a matter of life or death,
having a soul,
inhaling,
no,
you see,
i passed away,
lost my soul,
along time ago,
but i can still inhale
my own bitterness,
i can still stand
right in the burning hellfire,
of my own despair,
i can still wait for the rainfall,
thinking it might wash away
my everlasting grave,
and all it did,
is turn me into dust,
even more,
i've held my ashes,
as i was casting away,
but my grave
has been dug too deep,
six
feet
under.
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