Sunday, 26 April 2015

jade looking glass

i am not like your color
i prefer the shadow’s blood.
we made our placebo upon
it once before and without notice;
we wept until we fell asleep.
we fell to our insomnia sleep.
this poem was about the back and
forth and in and out of this black
chant immortalizing my waterfall
shoulders. this poem is about
the natural and beautiful decay and
restoration undone;
the becoming history
of my me.
the jade looking glass
of cuts and scrapes
and permanent bruises. 

heat beats

heartbeats in my palms  with tiger sky skin and tanned eyes with red clouds.  heaven sent another angel and Zen breathed again.  love slathe...