The Artist’s Model

  a flower on her shoulder in black and in white, her soul twines beneath sun magnified… There are birds in a circle that swoop to a call from deep in the loop surpassing it all… The conscious sky beats to time engaged in a frenzy of sweet inner chime on the stage…. Pools of

Tango King

  Suave breeze whispers musssssk a journeyman a tango king… Moving hands rest split second above lace, gravity is his boy and flesh? Well…..flesh is warm as dimpled dough

Two Weeks

Two weeks, aeons when succumbing to the insanity of Love. Two weeks of yearning buzz, confused bee’s flutter in the chest while ivy struggles for clear path. Two weeks of living, incomplete, drenched existence stormy child frightened, dying. Meeting oneself on a muddy track, holding back, not holding back. A jungle of a life time