August 20, 2012

,                   (i)

No stranger is entering the room.

(I’ve thought of it a thousand times)

A final scene , in frozen zoom.


A muskscent  from a love above, yet menstrual metallic.

A  joke on angelic.

She drapes my drawn face. damp.

I shapen  long words for my last breaths and

She thrusts  every page I’d saved.

(stark boy to dark man/ all my sacred words)

She threw every page down (after waving them around).

And in sacred words of her own,

“Read  ’em  and  weep”

Then blessed  her lips

Onto  mine.



a friend of a friend, on the phone,

she shared a sharp poignant piece of her.

Sharp & important to her. It pierced me to hear.

Death bed of her dear friend,

Whispering   from the Mystic,

He gathered his loves up…


and asked if his paintings were boxed up.








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