all that remained

is a past i never thought
i could read over and over like
a symmetrical poem faced with
fear and chimney laughs.

chilled with perfection
there is a crooked line on
my torso and
and i have enabled a pink
tryst with yellow
plastic
suns.

with a morning filled

warmth i will hug your

trunkated alter and sing

your nuances to sleep;

a chance to change 

again 

and again. 

the fungal that talked

unto us it poured its
green heart and we
jumped over its glowing
veins and declared
'succulent'.
dry interiors
breaking a fast
into a slow ended
wind; where my lined
heart bleeds and your
bad intentions turn
silver.
i am your poem witch
with magick words
and lumps of
disappearing wisdom.

together at last
is my skin to
these lucid bones
where i married
the earth;
once and
again.