Honeysuckle running deep in nostril's recollection
Wafting nectar dripping in air, please stop
Must stay present, no time for memory swap
Sneaking in, yellowed dreams, desirous confection
O purgatory, keep me still, deviate no such inflection

Causeway flash backing egg yolk, and lemon spectrum
Road lined in runners, speckling scintillation
This loose maddening of honeysuckle titillation
Reverse your tendril's twist, quivers an ungated septum
Covers, green to yellow transitions, honeysuckle bedlam

I cannot dance down this lane for fear of you
Your ringlets curl, clasp, coil me
On such road of alluvial soil I see
How can I? Must I, escape steer of dew?
You're honeysuckle memory of all I knew

with disciplined guilt
i can spill a kind of pornographic hemorrhage
                   provoking a spell into the mind
                        deluge
                      a spiel
so many illicit thoughts to priss a label on
             laxed into this state
              i imagine my punishments
               received in swollen glory
and   in turn   for this ungated imagination
                         i may earn further punishment
(no glory / dunce / head hung)

skirting dirt for promise
opening the aperture to the wild dark woods
    and beyond natures primal propeller
seeking out opportunities for submission
  under a church weight
          of my own mined and kinkled cranium

When the dust settles
When the light is gone
When the herd is ungated
When the silence is great
When what you see now
Is naught but memory
When all you felt then
Is all you seek now
When the plight is done
When the reckoning’s come

Will you be my
Apocalypse girl

are these who follow unsteadily
from the warm bed with pillows
skewed and blankets shed
to the cold kitchen floor to turn
the coffee on before even the dawn?

Who’s lonely steps
are these who shuffle through yesterday’s
waste in an ungated pace to cut the English
muffin in half and then with frail hands
open the vitamins before her morning bath?

Who’s lonely steps
are these who trudge to her empty seat
waiting in the dark for her
to draw upon experience –
that the deliverance will dance in hopes there is
a chance this one will make a difference.