Untitled Moon Beams

Your turquoise moon beams light the way
toward total darkness

I am not afraid.

I am your mother.
Your mirror
You are my brightness.
My shatter

Unfolding, untethered
Let us repurpose these fragments

Stronger, yet stumbling

I am not falling.

We are not falling.

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Relapse

Golden
was yesterday’s sunrise
with promises peeking through
every window
warming even my darkest corners

Deep wisdoms, soon detached
from truths past, forgotten

Your richness was thick.
So delicious.

Unwinding, undivine…
Today our tendrils collapse as they grasp
for empty meaning.
Beholding untold versions of tomorrow,
our newness now:
Forsaken.

NYC

Sky lines criss-crossing
hours above the blue.
The old baked bricks
were too brown to absorb
all of today’s beauty.
And those golden flecks…
drizzling sunshine around you,
glass and man-made music
spread between your fingertips –

Your belly is soft today,
just the way I like it.
Too tuned in
and still
before the sun goes down.

I can hear your breathing
mixed
with fever dreams.

Your open palms awaken
every crack within me.

Invisible hands stretching out
to feel what now has drowned.

Yes I am relishing
in swollen melancholy.

Unearthing shadows and
erasing lines drawn.

Swallowed Whole

A feast, so completely swollen
with the cud of backward thinking
sank within me
rotating,
relentless and growing.

I lost count of the regrets,
the indigestion clamoring to be felt
and heard
quiet moments glistening
just out of reach.

I have
given up and given up
on you
on you on
only you.

Yes, time does heal
memories
leaving whispers
and faint kisses
too sweet to be swallowed whole
estranged now
but for shadows
and glimpses.