The ground burns
The soles of my feet
                 It’s not hot
                 I’m not shoeless
Simply put
My roots don’t sink deep enough within it

Being this way
They say
Is a natural occurrence
                               Certain
                               Predictable

     As when the path of
Worldly planets collide
              A shadow cast
              Upon the other

The dark eclipse
                                Inevitable

How does one soften
Such emotion
When its surface
                          Is taught
Like the spine of an open book
Placed face down
                                For ease of remembrance

When water stands still
And energy flows
The crest of a wave
                                Stays silent

Each time I think of you
It is as if

               I call down the moon
               To frame your silhouette
               Embraced by another

It is as if

               The four winds
               Shall burn us both
               With the jealously
               Born from my nature

It is as if

               Each composition of
               Scented dialogue
               Withheld from my eyes
               Became a letter
               Of indiscretion
                              Unleashed upon the world

There was something
About your mascara
         When it rained
    When it smudged

But before it ran
The liner in the corner of each eye
                                Angled Easterly
                        Aligned with Horus
Now the prism
Within each iris within each eye
Within your photograph
Creates a mirage
                 That your still here
There was something
                 About your
                 Mascara

There is a condition
Adjacent to fear
But beyond its boundary

A place so close
That you
May drown in the awareness
Of survival

A point in time
Where you
Await the Caiman to close
Their eyes

No matter
                      Upon which surface I tread
Moss sand soil
Sediments of years
                                  Long past
Become exposed
                                  Each step
Layers of guilt
A backpack
That cannot be lightened
                                     Or past to another
When load or gradient surpass my will

No matter
                     Upon which surface I tread
Footprints left
                          Sink deeper
Than scales would suggest
One day soon
                        With love and acceptance
A path upon tissue paper
                                   Will leave no trace

Un-bridle shoes  
                             You’ve never worn
They’ve no memory of
Steps you’ve taken

Use laces that have never been tied
                             Walk without conception
                       Observe without association
                                        Evolve without dependence

Love's
           An unbound number
There is no three and a half
                            Or division
                                  
Love is a pacifist
Surrendered upon us
Our divinity
An endless wave
Without satellite to push or pull
 A wedding bouquet
Thrown to an empty room
A constant within
                               The state of awareness

Dear Diary

                     It’s not my fault

It’s easy to render
Myself a victim
Driven by consequence
                                    
Accountability
Sheds daily
                    Like skin
It silently falls

Perhaps I shall erase
My cuttings of
                    Foregone conclusions

They surround a
Diary full of days
Each encircled
                    By failure of others