Their eyes are pressing thumbtacks
of peace into my crystal
white body.
blood,
older then time, drips
dragon like to the floor that
creaks and shifts slightly in the wind.
I live in the trees.
I watch hundreds of humans pass below,
daily,
like ants.
Those who are aware of my presence cannot help
But stare at my looming glistening body
Dangling comfortably, in their eyes precariously,
From the giant body of my mother.
Eyes can never penetrate this white body.
The red tick marks that coat my skin
Are the marks of those
Who’ve tried.
Where are you?
exactly
The mother whom I’ve always known,
The angel of my lunar madness.
I’m stripping the colorful walls
Of my cage so that I may catch
A glimpse of your black bodies shadow.
Show me a hint
My dearest one.
A direction
For my feet to follow.
—————-
There is always hope
in eyes
who’s very nature
it is
to peel back the outer shells,
to reveal,
what lay beneath.
The costume trunk is deep,
dark
and often dank
in the in-betweens.
Body glimmering moonlight
blue-white.
dripping black shadow juice
streams
from crown
to puddle
around toes.
body sinks
thankfully
back
into obscurities hungry clutch.
as lost as abandoned ship at sea
tossed
invoking the capsizing wave
ingesting the salty turbulence
deep
into my sinking belly.
is there light in there?
will the cave door crack
in the end?
bending over
at the waist,
allowing my upper body to drop,
spine lowering
one vertebrae at a time,
I watch
as the blood drips from my eyes,
splashing on the remaining whites
of my toes,
merging with my black liquid shadow.
angels begin to dance above my jackknifed body,
like cheerleaders
to a game my soul has always played.
“I am as crippled as night and day”
the words by-passing my mind
and awakening instantly
in my chest.
“those bones are becoming more brilliant by the minute”
she
whispering the musing truths
into the space my disappearing ear
only recently occupied.
————-
my tact
is tarnished
my heart is
a golden waffle
garnished with monsters
who delight in nothing
but dancing
in circles around my
pole like mind.
i used to boast about
the brilliance contained within
my beloveds eye
now,
i just stare
into the mirror,
hoping for a chance encounter
with the mr right of my insides.
my address never changes
and yet
i haven’t slept in the same place
in over five years.
my chest is a medicine wheel
slash simon says game box,
which ever color is lit,
is the direction In which I travel.
There are stars in your eyes
the size of Niagara falling,
so touch the tip of your tongue
to my third eye while i stare into the sun
and back bend into eternity.