majestic

light waters
held a dream together
and the it
left the illusion
alone; for once.

deliberate like rain
on our cloudy backs
were the feverishly high
antelopes of tightly
dried out poetic
knots.

metal hands hidden with
cognitive storms peeling
apart to break free on our
ripped nerves just waiting
to be itched.

diluted with soft
metal hands i am
praying with your
back's small intentions.
i am praying
with my back against
your distance.

we live in moon storms
and our hair is on a fire
that sings peace to
our semantics.
our home is filled
with unopened
windows but
i still feel safe
inside your
wild deft night
arms.

moon mascara

i only see her in that
way; he only sees me
through is abdominal
pains and never through
his fingertips.
see-through glass running
with mirrors so abrupt i
can taste the salt
off my self induced
wounds:womb of my
effortless fear
i do not need, i want
i do not listen, i see and
i feel the cradle
of soft hands that weld
me clean
in my moon
lit stars.