asymetrically patterned in the weeds,waiting

mad enough to steal love

from chariots regret

carrying memory

like a sponge waiting for water,

we are heavy enough

to wish for salt

to wash away

the exit wounds

and all the flesh boons

we naked apes

want quickened fingers for,

empty spaces to fill again,

driven in birdsongs

and the quiet assured pace of Dawn,

yes we belong,

always moving,

always instilled vibratorial splendor,

any end or more succinctly

where the circles lend beginnings,

to trees winged

with cracked cupped ceilings,

that whisper Autumn is coming

in the rain

and is just waiting to hear

how thirsty we might be

between jarred comfort and ice aged

advances our cells hold

in the keys fit to the stars 

clouding what crowds clamor,
hammer and nail

laddering to the Moon,

gallows waiting in the shadows

that bend time zoomed

reflect her wedded crescent

reddened just past the rooftops

dog-stretching dreams

awakening the day

a few moments too soon

seams not quite sewn enough

to hold what keeps us

inside ourselves...