i'm burrowing myself outta a hole. im burrowing myself ouuta a lock. im burrowing into the isdes of the walls of this dirt
and im sure glad my nails are short.
im so very glad oh my nails are short.
the dirt falls off ffrom under my nails.
the walls are shortening them.
the walls are opening up.
i am climbing out.
the heaviness of dirt.
the lightness of sky.

the sun lifts gravity.
the sun lifts my eyes from sleep.

the darkness was a nice dream.

now my dreams are rainbow sprite colored speckles.


goodbye


i feel the weight flicking off

it feels fine. im sorry loose lady.

yer skin falls.
scales drop.
we at peace in the heat,

evn though i cant think

i cant stand.

goodbye
blues
hello oranges
and maybe pink.

god disease
lets go


i love you so

eyes covers

reading and benediction player saver


in such efforts to be serene

serenity alludes me

in silent time growing holes of ooze

time affords me leisure

in affluent tongue teeth letters

mixed with wine

speak words
through the eye cover
lacey longer than before
grow yer nose chakra

and time lets you in

and there are days to offer creativity
a blood sacrifice to the sun.

tell me sweet layered lover.
in the desert we wear many rings.
a thimble on our thumbs
until sunset.

a foot step in the dark shadows of summer days
where the concrete covers the back alley
shade grown
webs of tailored truth.

okay okay okay.
alright alright alright.
i'll hold yer hand(s)

piece by piece meal.
pleasure by angled lever lover
dive into swimtime with
old timey bathing suits


watch the clock spins
drown in seawater
seasplatter

eye covers hang further down
covering other organs

uncovering crown blaze shine

looking down
to
hide this emblem of phoenix ash
on my forehead

and knowing the movement forward on this push-pin
is alone again
alone again
but sometimes tied to string and points
with colors diluting the image
whose boundaries are anyways already imaginary

eye covers blind fall down
naked
spin
shame is shone down the river
to die

a sparkled death of tones

singing hope songs
and merging rays of solitary string
with lit leaves
and back-lit clouds
and lens over hands over mouths of lens of truth
over eyes, covered yet again

a repetition of good enough fer the lickin