journal entry #3

the birds ministered from tall pines

        our eyes were

sites of excavation effaced by inner winters

went blind

                  amid the gorge the shore

followed you into flames

my lips were yours

                            don’t look in my face too much

if we were able to cross-examine the wind

                                              and will of each errant star

they’d eventually end

                                                                  transfigured apart

amethyst

your heart contained labyrinths

             that shifted similar to a river

you were always at the root of myth

bore witness to your censure

            considered every if

it’s november and i’m still not here

paced inward

             objective existence splintered in fields

i was fire confined to snowcapped mountains

disheveled unshaven

           brazen and broken

my undoing would’ve come sooner

if not for the ocean

          home was shattered before my arrival

there were no bibles

just the globus sensation on a daily basis

Untitled (apothecary)

The cliffs will return with the gifts of
our anatomy spiraling clarity hardly
responded to the phenomena my sins
carry me for a time our bodies intertwine
living shrine i cannot define all that
happened to me for the pain’s no longer mine

olbers’ paradox

had gone unexamined enormous swaths
of cloud formations activated fell asleep on
the front lawn of the library two became none
i cannot describe the scrum two made

to transmute us in the corner of my camera
lens electric sunspots glinted through trees again
we became less illusory wandered brutishly
toward elucidation the streets spoke initiations

i’d craved you said spoon with me it’s winter
each temple faced eastward warm colored azure
arrived before the river’s mouth fields of snow
silence often put aside stacks of books groceries

walked past several bus stops faced the wind beside
myself again being human involved abrupt stars