The moon is racing me -
She leaves white, slender paw prin
On dark, sleek train tracks
In her wake.
She gorges the

I see myself in the poppy seeds an
In the dying grass,
In the crisp, singing breeze;
Under the breadth of sky,
Atop the breast of the sea;

The past lies beneath me, a browni
Tickling through my skirt,
Picking which nerves should be pok
Asking for resurrections I can ne
The present comes to me in an eage

One hour ago and
My hours with you are spent tiptoe
With the lightning showering down
And the wind whistling around me w
Two hours now and

I’m still learning the secret to m
With the suburban, slumbering sun
And flowers locked in a jar,
Not quite sure how to grow anymore
Strict outlets char my stumbling f

The stars out the window are still
Mischief about the night before.
Somewhere on the horizon,
Evening is fermenting into morning
And it is calling me for a drink.

I want break free from
Night’s overdue song.
I want to rip my teeth into
Dawn’s ripe, royal flesh -
The one that is salted

You are a tourist.
You come to rumble your wheels aro
Kissing my skin so excitedly.
New country, new land
New just about everything and you’

And the Earth -
Always, the smell of the Earth ha
He always woke lost to the scent o
Soaking soil with the dust after r
A night companion that knew nothin

We are a strange tune -
Two notes that know nothing of the
But know a little something about
The dance they are dancing.
I am a tall glass of bourbon

I can see the scatter wrenching it
And skittering on the ice banks
Like a giraffe on ice skates
Running amok before me,
And oh God! something else is tum