This Present Place

Blood invested kisses pushing upon a bedtime sky
reflected the space hidden in a deep well inside.
With tireless tenderness, it seeped of all her callings.

Ode to Rose

His almond lids encircling still and raging waters beneath a naked moon
This moon, these eyes, they bear the color of swallowed earth, that when pointed, drink the entrails of her loveliness.

Swallowed Waltz

And when she comes to you,
She come to you in-between the space of grace and madness
Mad hatter happy mixed in Dali Da Vinci grandness.

TO BE or not to be

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of other’s opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.” – Steve Jobs

Brittle Candy

So for the last time, she wrapped her lids
around hopeful apparitions, abstract and un-candid.
Imagined herself into her heart, then suddenly became disenchanted.
Esoteric wants, erected & confined to the quaint and quiet quarters of moistened teeth and a wagging tongue.