A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing

I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,

Soft grey ghosts crawl up my sleev… to peer into my eyes while I within deny their threats and answer them with lies. Mushlike memories perform

I’ve got the children to tend The clothes to mend The floor to mop The food to shop Then the chicken to fry

Your skin like dawn Mine like musk One paints the beginning of a certain end. The other, the end of a

One innocent spring your voice meant to me less than tires turning on a distant street. Your name, perhaps spoken,

We, unaccustomed to courage exiles from delight live coiled in shells of lonelines… until love leaves its high holy te… and comes into our sight

My man is Black Golden Amber Cha… Warm mouths of Brandy Fine Cautious sunlight on a patterned r… Coughing laughter, rocked on a whi… Graceful turns on woolen stilts S…

Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.

Curtains forcing their will against the wind, children sleep, exchanging dreams with seraphim. The city

Funky blues Keen toed shoes High water pants Saddy night dance Red soda water

We, this people, on a small and lo… Traveling through casual space Past aloof stars, across the way o… To a destination where all signs t… It is possible and imperative that…

The night has been long, The wound has been deep, The pit has been dark, And the walls have been steep. Under a dead blue sky on a distant…

Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave

The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.