The Perfect Game

hours I spent with my cheek against your spirit smoothing the walls of a private utopia a summer of thought sweet like balloons of sugar mouthful of music sometimes a note that matched my heart claiming me with words like sacred and heat now back from the platform in his throat where I sat waiting

supPRESSme

sit and listen toes just touching coloured light falling across your little knees now on the ground little knees….. up kneel sit stand sing down knees eyes closed open day by day word by word you are tied to Him you are cloaked in His magic bored until broken left hand heavy right hand floating

Water

  there is a wave inside my body a heated flank a slow tsunami pulling upward like tongue or soul sliding my notes taking my wounds…. it follows a soothing determined path a pink wash sweeping a dark pink purpose, it loosens me it releases me I glide like wings melting floss becoming a rush of

Snakes Teeth

  I think fear, as sharp as snakes teeth black head weaving I think sex, thick twining thoughts I think creation desperate concepts that one cannot resist I think healing aggressive deliberate unrelenting in my dreams under me my darkness resolving ascending complete absorption I choose not to resist.