..........

decapitated details

   itching my soul

   yearning for  words

to make sense

tied behind the lies

      fed to eyes

of newborn calves

wearing red before

Labor Day

 while blood cleans

the wounds

     of the wounded

 

snow so white

the way she holds the moon

    on a pale winter’s day

as the snow gently rests upon

     her soul

      she sings to the white dove

secret soul

I love you in the way

your eyes sing me to sleep

   the way your nose touches

my lips

  the way your voice touches

my soul

     holds me when I need to feel

whole

((green plants))

ink

    d

      r

        i

          p

             p

        ing

from a pen

that writes

letters to

family members

who no longer

exist

 

   to fill my time

with missing voids

memories monsters ate

to quiet my brother

from a restless night’s sleep

 

p   o   e   m.

 

with your soul in my left hand

   tears run down my face

erasing  my  will to survive

                         through a time

    where nothing seems right

H   A   T  E   fed to the children

in the womb of     M O T H E R S  

         blind to the light

that

   holds her family together

…. continuing to cling on

to your soul

    my left hand cramps

morning     m o o n

as she yawns,

   mountains move.

                (mysteriously)

the sun shines through

her brown hair,

   as it f 

             a

                 l

                    l

                       s    

                           b e t w e e n    her

still shoulder blades

   trees grow where love

 finds a home.

 

 

soft kisses

 

 

caressing your neck

with summer’s truth and lies

that hide under

                   your teeth.

 

where your grin should sit,

when December hits,

      the roads are slick,

   with Thunder Ice

and black birds that hiss.

 

"take the Full Moon to bed, for she

   won’t be born again"

    the owl said.