September 25, 2013

ghost veined wanton-ite...

photo by Edward Rinaldi ©

feasting on the vestige house,  Summer built

she always wanted the Sun
in two by two square formed
circled small threaded desires

the plumbing fixtures
she told to rust and lament
bend the truth into the lies of art

every bough is a wall creaking
a brachial reach of leaves
another dying turn, another spit

she said bleeding into painted velvet
was what the boreal forest floor wanted
dessert clocks hung worn against damp soft skin

everyone else is a tangle of sticks
cupping their fingers, watching
where you’ve been in late grasses

taking stones
taking bread
finding holes to hide in
the stories we fish for

instead of knowing
Hansel and Gretel
must be eaten too
the wind whispers

seed fattened and hardened
husk heavy with chance
they are carved
as she is

timed by body crackles
skin and flesh seared near 
our portal mouths hunger
where we hold formless love so dear


1 comment:

  1. It's been a long time...and well worth the wait.