I wish you a cloudy morning

I think ahead to your journey into the sunrise. . .
I wish you a cloudy morning. . .
sweet curtains of mist riveted
to the smooth steel grey waters

they roll between the rosy fingers of morning
dipping into the wine dark sea
like the wing tip of a gull
turning above the water
splashing ever so slightly past the surface
like a sail sliding cross a piece of sky
whose droplets hold the last innumerable jewels of night

let us pick one of those, to adorn our love
even as the gaze of morning
forgets the existence of stars

Tea Cups

It's the difference between catching a falling tea cup

and serving a hot cup of tea to a distant table. 

The tea cup isn't easily captured

Its tumble is rapid asymmetry

the handle is a bewildered toddler

equally amazed at it's first frantic steps

as the cold smack of floor on its bottom

a catcher may only sip the intensity for a moment

As opposed to the the long steady burn

in your fingered fore arms

holding the little footprint of a saucer

gazing steadily on a tiny ocean 

of tea and tidal movements

a song of urgently wringing china

as the subway passes your first tiny apartment

in the shadow of the M train

I suppose they are the same life 

lived in different phases

Starry Chandelier

You are so far away. . . are you a sleepy kitty's dream?

Are you hidden away in the woods

atop a towering tangle of ivy and stone

are you going somewhere in your traveling hood

a garden of flowers and beasts?

Let down your hair my love

Ah. . . I love your haircut. . .

I will rise like a balloon

Forgetting the fears that cut my heart

I brought the world to your window

To trade for your sweet coffee kisses

Are you lost in these woods my darling?

May I carry that basket for you?

It looks heavy with salad,

I'll forget the halloween costumes

and have a picnic in the woods instead

The woods are laden with cold flowering branches

my furry ears long for your delicate touch. . . 

Come to my garden my dearest

The trees are in spring glorious bloom

Put your hand on my shoulder and with the other

take my rough, fur-lined paw

and let us dance away the curses of this world

let us spin and twirl beneath the starry chandelier

kiss me my woman and i'll be your silver prince

and your howling beast ;)

The secret of dark matter

It is strange when my mornings aren't warmed 

by the smell like costa rican coffee

 and one more quick spoon 

before we fully surrender our nights 

to our day. 

The wordless peace 

of fingers and legs 

binding us together. . . 

anchoring our bodies 

safely to the earth, 

our branches, leaves 

spiraling into a jade tapestries

clouds spilling through the fibers. . . 

as our minds float beyond floors 

and roofs, 

past the bravest bird, 

the lighest spiderling 

sailing on a rainbow thread. . . 

past satellite eyes 

into the fabric of the great dreaming. . . 

that is the secret of dark matter

the hidden ingredient of the universe my love. . . 

far below, 

we let free happy little sighs,

into the softness of each other's necks. . . 

Two diatoms

Sand stretches like the white belly of a waking cat

We are wrapped warmly, arm in arm, 

paper cranes sitting on the rising sun

The wind bears us, a seed in a white dove's beak

Island to island, to christen every breach of sun and sea

And celebrate every surrender to the gravity of night

In the inky ocean outside a plane's oval eyes

We might merely be two little diatoms

In the vast blue planktonic dance

But when we move together

the ocean bends and stars light our path

to our next adventure. . .arm in arm

We have been swimming

We have been swimming, 

 you and i

  in blue wonders 

   and feathery clouds

  each drop, 

 a radiant gasp,

a verdant 

 pinto sprout,

  shooting 

   through 

  the canopy

 knocking over 

                       howler 

                             monkeys

 carrying 

   a grinning sloth

   and a beautiful kinkajou

  (un-singed)

home. . . .

I would find xenon

You asked me once, what if we'd never met?

I would've felt nothing differently at first.

I was already hollow and tired

compressed into a little square,

the sad frosty breath of an elk

on an empty frozen lake

After a time, without even an idea of you

I would miss you. . . with no knowing

I would only long for something

Life should be funnier and warmer

and more adventurous

Kisses should have fire

and passion. . .

Adventure. . .

I would find xenon

and with it, I'd look. . . 

within the depths of my hollow days

I would look for signs of you

between the formulaic songs

among the endless noise

I pine for the slightest hint of you

in the darkness

of all that does not matter