Saturday, 5 November 2016

dry wrists

around my wrists dry moisture of what was before

the smearing of ashes spread across your sky

i am deliberate in these words and i have forgotten 

how to be subtle in your vacant

eyes; remembering our canvas

on oil and knuckle sand.




 




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...