Cherry Wine

The red chair,

It sits idly.

The polished leather,

It smolders a matte cherry,

Enchanting with its lustful glow.

Disrupt the gaze only to admire the lush foliage surrounding it,

The red chair sits among friends and flora,

Static in material,

Dynamic in being.

This is so very often how people appear,

Impossible, out-of-reach uniqueness in every moment.

We cannot know the texture, the feeling,

Each and every memory shared with their comfort.

But you know yours,

And I know mine.

How wildly wonderful does this happen to be?

 

Dedicated to: Amy Winehouse, RIP

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My Biome

Swirling dust particles shimmer as they dance,

Flashing their smiles like an early summer dawn.

I reach my hand out to play with the minerals,

But as I come near they all dart aside.

 

I am surrounded by it, I am confounded by it,

I am flattened by the knowing,

Showing twenty-seven years of blue iris blossom from my windows.

Doesn’t it look breathtakingly beautiful?

I cleaned up just for you,

You should not see the filth, the black garbage bags.

They rot in my basement unless I get rid of them,

They stick to my baseboards and grow roots, as well.

 

Nowadays, those streams don’t rapidly run elsewhere.il_340x270.537856439_jr13

Instead they glimmer softly, paddling on,

Drifting inwards, swiftly falling.

Life gravitating toward life,

That is what the air echoed,

That is what the soil planted.

That is what the trees breathed.

Lifetimes Ago

The breeze feathers my elbows as I grasp onto him tightly,

His fur feels warm against my wind grazed cheeks.

As I look out among the new landscape,

It occurs to me I have yet to find a proper supply of food.

Snowy peaks blur the horizon,

And nightfall bows gently, glowing a musky blue.

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His whines signal a need for fuel,

And rest, water perhaps?

My groggy mind fuses ideas together,

Suffocating my need to continue to clutch onto his warmth.

As soon as I let him go he bolts,

Racing past my crouched knee nearly knocking me over,

He often journeys, since living off the grid I’d say around twenty times.

A fear arises each and every time.

Is this the last I’ll see of him? Feel of his companionship and safety?

Will I someday have to brave the blurry peaks and windswept lands alone?

Somewhere in the distance I hear a howl,

My lips part into a smile and I howl back.

Illusions

Satin ribbons caress my hips,

Lacing my thighs,

Wrapping around my calves and spiraling into existence.

A pulsating velvet glow expands through out my chest,

Is it best to unstitch and show you the source?

Perhaps not.

Perhaps I shall walk into the horizon and blend into a thousand rays of sunlight.

I want to spread my wings and glide with the world winds,

They whirlwind through a fabric of solar systems,

Shimmering layers of wisdom onto the Earth,

Awakening eyes to the mirror in the sky.
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I will dip my toes into the pond of perishment,

Until I am no more and no more is all there is to be.

Sandpaper lips take flight and crack into a smile.

Being will craddle me back into existence,

Where I’ll always be.

The loving unity of my infinity,

Strongly whispers what I already knew lifetimes ago.

Homeward Bound

I feel uprooted,

Although it isn’t a foreign feeling.

I’ve tasted the unknown plenty,

And ever so gently absorbed its meaning.

The seemingly single source of solitude stiffens your jaw,

But I must tell you to unthaw,

Spread roots to inner most thoughts.

They’ll dance over you like a trickling stream,

They’ll cling to you like sticky whipped cream,

They’ll mingle with you, soft yet supreme.

When the mind lets go of worries untold,

Of juries in control,

Of furies blizzard cold,

Peace sets in. maxresdefault

The expanding orange mist glides over the pink dusk,

Sparkling with each brushstroke of lust.

Sensations of all kinds enter my realm,

And let them in I must.

This was always my home,

But now I am aware of it.

This was always my home,

But now I am conscious of it.