The Dance

One moves first
The other responds
It doesn’t matter

One says a word
The other a thought
It never crosses their minds

It was never confused
Never two halves of a whole
Never two lies

It hasn’t been a pause
Come together
And separate

Each is confident
In his own right
In her own way
The words flow across the page
He was sure
She was sure
They were uncertain
Of the other’s feel
Of exposing heart
Openly guarded
Secretly exposed

They move closer
Across the miles
Making changes to soul

Traveling so far
Across the sky
Delivering gifts of words

Shedding the strangeness
Shaping something
Totally undefined

Did he go too far
Did she go too far
Cautiously they begin

Each is troubled
By his own past
By her own demons
The passion flows across the page
He was dark
She was light
They became comfortable
With the empathy
With the steps and the song
With the movement and rhythm
Surprisingly full of grace

Now he finished her thoughts
Now she knew his mind
Now they started the dance

Moving this way and that
Steps so perfectly placed
While the music played on

Subtle changes in time
Shifts in their subtle steps
To no one’s surprise

Now a spin towards love
Now a step from their fears
Dancing closer with time

Each is tentatively happy
He can’t let himself go
She can’t let herself go
What will happen when the music stops
Will there be melancholy
Will there be sadness and pain
They had come to a point
He expected it
The shoulder tap
The cutting in
The spinning away


Drawn To Elsewhere

Woman, more
Man, red herring
Woman, false trail
Her charge, gruesome
That red door, closing in fields
A figure turning, facelessly laughing
Flooding intimacy with pain
That bird, circling overhead
A chorus sings my redemption
I need not follow every raindrop
Blindsided by flaming balls of thought
A boiled rabbit simmers


Pensive Skyfire Missing Her Waves

Aching skies, crying out for ocean’s warmth
Incendiary air, steam rising up
The motion of your waves excites me
Dearly, I need your mist
Saturated with your love, captivated
I surround you
Somehow, I cannot see within
To what is stirring
I caress you
Somehow, I cannot fathom
Your depths
I ache for you, longing wistfully
I feel trapped, this sky
Over mountains
Over the golden plains
Above grand cities and quaint villages
Lights dazzle and sparkle
Majestic spires reach for my hands
But they are not my beloved ocean
They are not you
Whom I cry for
Longing for my sea
For the horizon when we can touch
At last, inseparable
Finally, one love


You Call This A Lullaby?

What the hell am I still doing up, when I’m so tired? This year is like a silver-lined version of the last one. Like I used eye drops and everything is so much clearer and brighter. Even when I look within.

So how can I sleep when I have so much energy and drive?

And yet, what the hell am I still doing up, when I’m so tired?

Second verse, same as the first…
Remember that expanded view thing that went from the universe all the way down to the atomic level? That’s how my introspection works right now. I learn all sorts of things about myself.

For example, I found a conscience in there somewhere, and shame was my ambition. I’m an empath, and guilt was my engine. I’m very responsible, and fear was my drive. Not that I don’t still have all of these things.

But hey, some people have to learn things the hard way, and it’s a hard knock life, baby. We all have the same teacher, same resources, same questions. Stop copying off me.

Because how do you know I’m not feeding you the wrong answers?


I’m Not In Here With You, You’re In Here With Me



Anxiety and pain and I’m struggling, trying to get through this random stream of consciousness that pervades my thoughts. The battle rages on, chipping away at my sanity, turning lies into weapons and truths into pools of liquid, in which I may ultimately drown

It’s you, you’re all I need, you’re all I want, you have all of me including my every breath…

Lifeline, she is, pulling me to safety. The fire I move toward matches my own in intensity and desire, and I wonder if it will consume us both, only for us to rise again repeatedly like phoenixes. Her eyes stare into mine perpetually, drawing me in and drawing me pictures of a future I once only dreamed of.
I have trouble breathing, both literally and figuratively, and gasping for breath has become one of my favorite hobbies. I run to expand my capacity, but it doesn’t expand my capacity for pain, my tolerance for attacks, my leisure for doing what I want to do to maintain peace and sanity.
She is my breath, my oxygen. She keeps me alive sometimes. It’s scary to put my life in someone else’s hands like that, but I can’t think of anyone else I’d trust with my life. Ghosts and demons, they’re practically my friends, but trust is a mischievous sprite who plays tricks on my sentiments and dances on my metaphorical grave, the one I hope never to enter. Yet giving her mine seems like the most obvious thing in the world, and I do it quickly and easily.

I don’t have claustrophobia. I am perfectly willing to climb into a small enclosed space like her arms, and feel comfortable and safe. I don’t have agoraphobia. I am quite content to send everything to the skies and reveal all to her through my wide open spaces


Tai Chi or Chai Tea

Surreal pillow
Lay my head upon tonight
Up late anyway

Relaxation comes
When exhaustion settles in
Collapsed destiny

Tai chi or chai tea
Which will fill my cup, my soul
Dissolved entropy


More Pressing Matters

Removing stones from chest
Breathing easier these days
Crucible on cruise control
Witchery matters not
The ocean forgives
Welcoming, embracing
Sky chaotically smiling
Dressing in wind and rain
For formalities and finalities