your hair smells like sunshine, today & a note..

.................................................................................





note

the sky, its wide bones; a boulevard. i am painting tiny stars on a shoe. tomorrow i will découpage my tea cup , glass box , lampshade - maybe with poems, maybe not.

Sentimental Code

spin-bird, snap-wire! how have you been?

sober. and, i finally found the prints in the chamber. the
bug is still under a handkerchief, all the shine gone from
its inky,

spoony legs.

and in the garden, where we used to sit,
almost everything has gone to shade.

nah, hoop skirt, lace collar, kitty cat.

hoodwink, hoodoo.

-grin-

hey now, pocket-plus.

plum flush?

taxi, pixel, gotta rush!

À la prochainet..

YOUR LINES..

strewn across my bed ~

I could be trying to sleep
under a ceiling made of
bark, branch and leaf;
freedom vents
allowing the body to finally speak -
white and

slippery
curves
twisting
like a poppy
against your dark
mouth
and
cheek

'folie de doute'

red with arrows
the night pours forth
with mad glory!

1.

-Morning-


I am sitting at the window again
a paperback face
your mouth opens
to kiss


2.

angel feathers
spotted in the smoky drift
a cameo
in last night's dream

dancing to the acoustic version of Layla
like a cause
rising and falling

falling



3.

-postcard-
from your sweetness.
your, like, and is.
your,
completely alone