Bones threaded with silence,
a weft of unseen tides,
drowned before the sky could murmur,
names twisted into half-light.

Empty calls carve through marrow,
a dissonance stitched in the flicker
of unspoken skies,
twisting where shadows breathe.

Flesh frays in the void of mouths
that never opened—
rusted hums too thin to grasp.

Skin unthreads,
and what remains burns in the air
like a scream that cannot form.

Dust to dust—
the thread severed
in half-thoughts,
too distant to bleed,
too numb to remember.

Pushing the ground away - with iron cutoff
The sough interlight of toller - outgoes
From islands - floating - in the choir
Collisions - of world state waves
Counteract - of contradictions
Forgot to remember - throughout from the depths
Eroded - fractures - cuirass of theirs - is moss
And shrouded - with sprouting - cold wrists
Dew trails - hands flooded -
To wash the soot of the blood from one's face -
Up to phalangeals - lacerated - spring of pyrexia
Mindbreak - helplessly curdled
Seeing - far-heading stabs to inhale
Trouncing to raise - the head up -
In the fratricide craving
Hum - and of body parts - ocean
Blind sea-gulls - skrike - and anthracites'
****** - is in embrace interlocked
Drogues - are not eaten to bone - and no brink-
Of - he-li-o-cen-tri-cly driven -
Mound - and weak swellings -
Nauseating headrush
Endowing to - entrails - of cascade
Dissonance - limbs - apart

As  Lisa falls asleep
She feels her soul leave her body
As it shoots to the moon
Alas she is alive
She is now on the moon
This happened 200 year ago
Long before the thought of astral projection
And to this day you see her
Face blend in the craters of the moon

winter fed us with blood-red berries and ice clouds,
our visible breath soon colder than our lips.
i did not want to see what you had seen,
could not grow out of those sad, sad eyes.
we fell into the calm wave of circumstance
and twilight hurried from us into the dark.
hurried away like the last drop of sunlight
purples the earth, dancing on the edge of the world.
do we wait, stone-heavy, for the last tendrils
of day to melt like ice?
the fearful cold breathes like a fog,
gathers its stars of voice and hill,
gathers memories and distant dreams,
lets us forget.
are you the ghost that lies on the hill
calling to me?
are you that ghost,
whose irons soften like cloud,
whose frozen leaf trembles on the branch
waiting to fall to the whispering land?
your eyes are from the past and yet
they follow like a cold wind blasts.
your eyes, everywhere your sad eyes,
biting like a frost.

Lithe lady of the lake, follow me
Right down here,
Down azure paths lit
By the dripping moon.
The summer has not passed;
We are in the dawn,
Do not let it sail away
Like the receding tide
Of yesterday.
We are all born into the ephemeral breath;
Some choose to ignore it,
Others ride it.

Lithe lady of the lake, follow me
Right down here,
Down azure paths lit
By the dripping moon.
The summer has not passed;
We are in the dawn,
Do not let it sail away
Like the receding tide
Of yesterday.
We are all born into the ephemeral breath;
Some choose to ignore it,
Others ride it.

My portrait is hidden in my basement;
The azure paint,
Like skies of June,
Is flaking like the waning moon,
Revealing a monotone landscape.
The hyacinth smell,
Is usurped
By dry, withered grass.
The serpent,
Dream-like,
Slithers
Through the underbrush,
Of the tree
From which I hung
My soul.
Let me back into
Paradise lost;
A blind man searching
In a room full of girls
For his lover.
I’m searching for what
Was lost,
For the haven
We abandoned,
While the serpent
Slithers ever closer
To my
Swaying soul.