Where Life Is…
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Where Life Is
Is this where life is?
In a playful kiss?
In these curious fingers?
In our delicate laughter?
[Love will levitate you
Youth will let you wonder
Adventure will release you]
Sanctity
Is this sanctity?
It’s so mysterious
how music evokes
your body so bountiful
I love how you feel it
so much it resounds in me
Is this sanctity?
The Veranda
Are the things I can’t define, the things that keep me alive? Is it the veranda I look above? The stars are there to convince me I am part of their mystique.
This Beautiful
This life, so beautiful
it floods my lungs with light
releasing the weight of my bones.
The music between us is magnetizing,
my friend, breathing out a dance in the air.
Rituals of Living
Sometimes we ‘be’ and
sometimes we ‘become.’
It’s a ritual of living.
To do things we are told,
then find the things we
are meant for.
To be awoken by
a drenching storm,
bother you conscious.
To live like beauty is
what we are meant for.
Consumed in the craft.
And the craft threads
this ripping world
another cloak
to belong in.
No Wonder
Our resistances
reveal our loneliness.
It’s tiring with no
fascinations.
No imagination.
Good things are mistaken
for smiles with no eyes
and bleached bread.
It can be a danger
to keep running
this thread.
A tomb of treasures
but nothing in your chest.
No wonder.
Poly-Amour-Ous
To know where I inhale
and you exhale is to
weave this yarn over and
beneath telepathic skin.
I’m sentimental for every face
I witness this universe in.
It’s the heat in my chest
that feels honestly for
everything this world can be.
Weave it into me…
your longing and loving.
To find home in new ways.
It’s the glowing strings
that draw a force in me.
Deliriously, I weave a bridge
with blood and flowers.
I’m becoming in our
ripples overlapping.
Trails we’ve crossed.
Weave them into me.
Loosening
Are you somewhere near
…so full of life?
…where everything
returns to the tide.
Will the strum of our fingers
burgeon a better design?
Music to feel to.
Are you in this song…
arriving from my lungs?
Is it a universe of love…
I summon to hear you?
I wake with blurry eyes,
not sure if I’ll ever understand
the things I can’t play God with
and pretend like reason is
something that exists.
Our blood is sobering.
Our breath is a paradox.
That is the only sacred
path I journey.
And if I live the rest of my life,
I can only try to free it’s charm
by somber’s loosening and hope
it will be art.
