papiv

patterns and physical dominions summon tracers
carving my name into rivers and sands.
you search for a geometry of words
to shape the letters and
gild our crown with curses
a reflesive habit, reactionary to simpler sentences.
this pen wrote in vague centuries
climbing cold slate and fossils
marble liqours the poor
a fraternity in dire need of air.

polar winds blow the dust
frozen and grey
sticking to a field of poppies and irises.
we see the cult no matter how deranged and obscure.

plastic accusations of nobility and censorship
enthroned creeping vines in funeral urns.
Your pandora voice called all plagues as brothers
your revelation of insects
turned them all to stone, you blink like medusa.

two foxes stared at the poplar trees
busy with teethwork and pawstep
licked a cluster of leaves drip with honey
in a blue sheet raining medals and ribbons.

time stole through softly into my room to borrow a lantern
left a quart of kerosene and two wicks.
she owes me three hours
and i owe her a grave.
photographs harbor winds,breezes,and smoke.
hallucinations extend a sincere arm
but i can never quite grasp it.
the sun grieves for the loss of his eyes
the moon still carries a stone to remind her
of a reflection in the dark.
sycamore bones rattle and prophesize
your end of days.
oracle submission castrates the morning.

struggling to understand
prometheus gave light to man
hoping to blind the sun to the beauty of night and sleep.

you thoughts floated by attacking pedestrians
giving lovers papercuts.
shimmer of flesh kept wet and cold
a simple process to dull the bones
catching the bathwater to carry my disease.

the skin dismisses your voice as a heretic
but your feet convince me you have walked through holy lands
and have painted miracles with your dead brown eyes
imprisoning demons in your color to stop them from
stealing the numbers of faith and doctrine.


arrogance is a poisoner of words
a spy in the alphabet collects your musings
hung on the tip of our tongues.
you sold my fate in envelopes of leather
and heard my name in the threads of hollow hands
and quiet words brighter than stars.
tattoos of spirals sewn on my skin
because
the words refuse to bleed for me.
my veins mutter vagrancies
rhyming with my heartbeat.

i see a source for this black river.