There is a hidden warmth in you
you do not show to others
and it pulls me under
like quick sand.
Or maybe it is the movement
of the sands that embalms
my body and carves out a
sinking place for it.
Or quite possibly the sands
are a prison holding my
body as it lays me down
waiting to drown as
the wicked seas overwhelm.
Or maybe I am at the helm,
I am sitting out far inside
the seas, I am waiting to
be brought ashore
I am waiting
Or I wait no more.
I am not quite sure.
Tickle your toes. . .
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motionless sap. ogling your shadow, you have much thinking to do. has the potassium kicked you in the arse yet-and got you going? you a...
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and now that the anger is gone there may be a few more glimpses like looking out of the window through a thin veil of silk. a look in...
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The Anchor for Joel When love embarks, with its generating propellers slicing through the interminable oceans of imperfection that are, for ...
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Exhibit A: When this was first documented, I was more flattering of him than I should of been, but it was another reminder of that star-spe...
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There is something spooky about me. I am certain of it. Or else why does the thought of you dying for me, somehow slightly perk me up. Bette...
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