soft like the insides of an oyster
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look at the crescent moon with it's white golden teeth. slipping, sliding, slivering, beneath coldest feet. finding, following, furthering into darkened sleep, we waken to wondrous waves of treats.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"a nighttime prayer
a heart made of fresh smelling soil
a tear caught by my own pointed tongue"
rejoiced the oceans
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
call me by my real name. as my eyes slowly turn green in night. lit by unknown things. lit by firey things. by flying things. by lost thing. by deep in the earth things. brushing past like a kissing wind, lost lost lost, and found deeper in a heart beat breathing, speaking that voice we all are familiar with when we get the goosebumps we didn't expect. singing something as a longing for a language rooted in soil. a virgin. in the whore. as a whole. sleeping and listening as a dew drop in awakened dreams. each passing moment full of attention. full of that breath that let's you know you are alive.
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flying like a dark bird in one thunder noise in the downpour
of flood & of rain
is what will call the sun back again,
and it did.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
stepping the same path as a tornado of spiraling leafs and its secretly pushing me in from behind
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
in the late night walk
my heart shivering with excitement
i didn't really know you
and this felt like a special moment
of visual strangers meeting
i was tied between a mental flutter
that what i wanted may not be what i needed
what i was given was more than it all combined
the harsh winds don't break the butterfly's wings
like one would think
it's these tiny things that really wake me up
because,
i suppose because the ocean is as big as it is
and so when my heart opens
it feels like something fragile
but then,
butterfly wings
and then i don't need to be overtaken by the tides
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
when i think back on who you've been, in my life,
i understand how i've become,
based on some history you've come from.
but just because you're my father,
or maybe my mother,
or maybe me.
it isn't me.
it doesn't have to be.
so when i tell you to leave,
it isn't goodbye;
i learn that each of my footsteps
could be yours,
and i make each one of them for myself.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
sometimes i wish i'd find you beneath the moon.
but i'm not suppose to look for something outside myself when my heartbeat isn't all the way in tune.
i wish i'd find you there in your skin;
moon colored skeleton skin.
did i give up my second wish?
well i wish you were you,
and i'll be me,
and that moon,
can be one place for you,
while being one place for me.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
two polar opposites are coming together.
the tree overhanging the lake, split.
*and repeat* in two polar opposites are coming together.
inside was a flat cut and the texture broke outwards like the entrance of the womb.
two polar opposites are coming together...two. polar opposites.
two polar opposites are coming together.
and as i looked closer,
it appeared to be the broken legged crow from earlier, fossilized.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
look at the crescent moon with it's white golden teeth. slipping, sliding, slivering, beneath coldest feet. finding, following, furthering into darkened sleep, we waken to wondrous waves of treats.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"a nighttime prayer
a heart made of fresh smelling soil
a tear caught by my own pointed tongue"
rejoiced the oceans
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
call me by my real name. as my eyes slowly turn green in night. lit by unknown things. lit by firey things. by flying things. by lost thing. by deep in the earth things. brushing past like a kissing wind, lost lost lost, and found deeper in a heart beat breathing, speaking that voice we all are familiar with when we get the goosebumps we didn't expect. singing something as a longing for a language rooted in soil. a virgin. in the whore. as a whole. sleeping and listening as a dew drop in awakened dreams. each passing moment full of attention. full of that breath that let's you know you are alive.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
flying like a dark bird in one thunder noise in the downpour
of flood & of rain
is what will call the sun back again,
and it did.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
stepping the same path as a tornado of spiraling leafs and its secretly pushing me in from behind
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
in the late night walk
my heart shivering with excitement
i didn't really know you
and this felt like a special moment
of visual strangers meeting
i was tied between a mental flutter
that what i wanted may not be what i needed
what i was given was more than it all combined
the harsh winds don't break the butterfly's wings
like one would think
it's these tiny things that really wake me up
because,
i suppose because the ocean is as big as it is
and so when my heart opens
it feels like something fragile
but then,
butterfly wings
and then i don't need to be overtaken by the tides
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
when i think back on who you've been, in my life,
i understand how i've become,
based on some history you've come from.
but just because you're my father,
or maybe my mother,
or maybe me.
it isn't me.
it doesn't have to be.
so when i tell you to leave,
it isn't goodbye;
i learn that each of my footsteps
could be yours,
and i make each one of them for myself.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
sometimes i wish i'd find you beneath the moon.
but i'm not suppose to look for something outside myself when my heartbeat isn't all the way in tune.
i wish i'd find you there in your skin;
moon colored skeleton skin.
did i give up my second wish?
well i wish you were you,
and i'll be me,
and that moon,
can be one place for you,
while being one place for me.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
two polar opposites are coming together.
the tree overhanging the lake, split.
*and repeat* in two polar opposites are coming together.
inside was a flat cut and the texture broke outwards like the entrance of the womb.
two polar opposites are coming together...two. polar opposites.
two polar opposites are coming together.
and as i looked closer,
it appeared to be the broken legged crow from earlier, fossilized.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------