saturation

heavy wet red sunk deep beneath the soil

so much so that red oozed into every thread of found

ground down, I'm astounded by extent of red's bled trace

race into funnel of distorted distilled sound

optimum stasis circling lurks as vultures smell the blood

should finding mine the cavity of endeavor

releases seeds of surely noted everywhere

oui despair at the thought of the loss

should it be you, who dark dares to reach beyond

the soft wail of gravity's heady pull

then further find the deep shard need

of alizarin

sand and camels

devolver

to the ebb slow circumference

of flowing thought that laps

upon smooth sooth of coming

flat wet horizons rising to the plume

of gush hush wanting moments

endure

reci

rushing past banks of gathered

forgotten growth from undercurrents

refuse

obtuse of quickening torrents

storm

cantad el senor

I say maravillas

y Que hiso El

pluie ennui and

hizo para siempre

gave the air olvidar

heavy laden

often haven

alter entrails

a ce soir

sip star

pocketed fiction

drains the avenues holding

silenced might of the contrary solitary

pushing toward the wake-up call

of living

semblance circulates

positioning listening

to the soft hungry horror

of everything

watching as phantom dust

abrupts the quiet endeavor

ever quick to lash

against disdain

makes no difference to me

moment only

rests the sight

culminates the night

in growth

of ever new

essential

otherwise sunk dark

cackling breathers

search for harbor

to dump their

self afflicted

shame

I came

I came more

toward the quickening

flash great open

pouring of every direction

unknown foaming

round the crest of tipped

water wave, heave

every heavenly issue

stars hang in dormant extended shine

but once in awhile, they shoot out

blazing evidenced movement in their wake

I am her, am I her, her am I

fragrant thoughts

over skin soft

sensation of touch

melts night sweats

and greets the day

with ache of

memory

and in that moment

I became her

a created entity

just like the images

I could not prevent

the flow of momentum

existing between two names

neither mine

somehow a thought

without root

shot up into the sky

heralding freedom

from everything

nothing mine

nothing clear

except the day

and the jewels it contained

a glimpse of brilliance

as the cut of a gem

so beautiful

and solid

even

Trou de mémoire

Hole of memory

Blackout fog of

Necessary

What to say

Will make hell go away

Clearly not, and thoughts are

Ever wary

Widening high

Deep in plume

Of evidenciary

to be clear

water falls up toward critical mass

of cracked open hope

that fulfills folly's cause

I do not bleed sweat petals of demure

I do not feign vague unaware

I do not pretend to think that I am

what I am not

I hold no schemes of intent

I have clasped the blush of youth

and already released, blessed

I watch now, observant as ever

no flickering hesitation mine...and yet

to dream

consider

Dustings of

Quickenings come

Wrapped ready

Like the tightly woven

Tissues of

Interior

I bleed throb

Ever ready and

Harkening

To the pace

Of great point

Purpose

Of man

His thoughts are not mine

His ways are not mine

Ever ready

Quick to shift

Focus never settled

But soft

Of the day

Tendance coincides

Bereft of competivity

And stoic

Endeavoring love