you
not the flower but
the bee kissing
rosebuds, making
living things
bloom

you
no sunrise on
mountains but
the sun
herself, every
flame burning fierce
sploding gainst
the sky

you
not an ocean but
a stream softly
babbling
and rescuing
us,
the lonely
the lost

you
not forever
but tragically
temporary
and every
moment
you are here
i will be
what i am -
the pollen,
the planets,
the wanderer,
the poet -
dedicated to
loving
you

this world holds no secrets like you
the ocean can’t tell it
nor the shells can spell it
nor the wind can blow it
nor will I tell it too

this world holds no secrets like you
the dreamers don’t show it
the poets don’t know it
the sleepers can’t find it
nor will I tell it too

this world holds no secrets like you
the night won’t unveil it
the moon won’t howl it
the stars can’t fault it
nor will I tell it too

The burning of the skin starting
In the fight of Gods and ****** in
The bays of Golem where
Red, humongous ghosts are stranded.

Elopers, exodus of children,
Westend, Gaza,
Crystals, glaciers, jaws
Panting, greedy for the
One fulfilling victory of love.

Shoals are occupying the shells of
Their ancient homeland; skins,
Among craps and lipstick,
Are burning.
Hollowed castles of silk and
Mirrorglass.

Seven verses distant.
38 souls close by.
Ten gangs
38 skins against burning skin.

I shook hands with Joe Gideon
And high fived the shark
After a forest performance
In which they had rocked hard

The beauty of his voice and words
The slickness o her grooves
Soaked into me sonically
And caused the earth to move

Their world is so inviting
As at the barrier i stand
They'll take you on a journey
To learn the ways of man.

all my stress
my shortness of breath
there's not one day i don't think about you
you are my flu

before I die,
i wish to take a breath again