Bare Feet and Feathers

You happen to me like breath on a mirror A vanishing shape in the fog You are a whisper among beating drums. A tribal rhythm of dusty heels. Something primitive clawing on the shore. Something primitive in me. Between ventricle and atrium. You are a ghost in my veins. I let you out to stand on the tip of my tongue where you taste in me the syrup of need. And I hear, through you, the melody of want. No steps to take, no map to here Words blast heat fusing the dreams of our poems. Leaving rhythms for us to dance like the feathers we are on this breeze. Two spirits in the mist Reincarnated, we share atoms. Collided and blinking truth, beads of life skip, suspended in sky, like dust kicked up from primitive heels. This is the most I can be; a splash of light on the altar of an empty church. And I ask you to sing to me again, as I drift off to sleep. Waiting on my dreams. 

Spring’s golden children skip stones In August’s haze, through humid want. Smart sparkle girl, weed boy unwanted Upstream on the River Youth. Far from the life pond of experience. Intersecting paths, circles, from opposite shores Carried downstream, caught behind the dam of regret. The Black Swan born from the depth Busting the surface in a spray of passion Effervescent avian firework ignited By the spark of an affectionate memory Unknown consequence. The delicious taste of regret Like a kiss good night. The Black Swan leaves a trail of charcoal feathers Gathered up in the daydreams of a poet.

A library, in the dimples of a laugh, baby’s-breath-chamois folds, you little giant; put you in my pocket. Salty mineral flint, fossils of life I can’t know, repeat mournful decades to ecstasy. Smile. A library! (in the dimples of a laugh). Cookies-in-the-cupboard temptation; that’s you! My warm world so cozy, too quiet to disturb, you little giant, put you in my pocket. Vaudeville dancing, slapstick chopsticks (pull my finger), I’m a rude crude dude, pants down, falling down until… a library, in the dimples of a laugh. Prehistoric miasmic asthmatic whispers…sadness? Concentric waves, warm inoculation; that’s my kiss! You little giant; put you in my pocket. Midnight kitchen raid for something sweet. A library, in the dimples of a laugh, you little giant, put you in my pocket.