#AmericanWriters
One innocent spring your voice meant to me less than tires turning on a distant street. Your name, perhaps spoken,
There is no warning rattle at the… nor heavy feet to stomp the foyer… Safe in the dark prison, I know t… light slides over the fingered work of a toothless
The night has been long, The wound has been deep, The pit has been dark, And the walls have been steep. Under a dead blue sky on a distant…
Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.
Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave
Lying, thinking Last night How to find my soul a home Where water is not thirsty And bread loaf is not stone
The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.
Tears The crystal rags Viscous tatters Of a worn-through soul Moans
She came home running back to the mothering blackness deep in the smothering blackness white tears icicle gold plains of… She came home running
When I was young, I used to Watch behind the curtains As men walked up and down the stre… Young men sharp as mustard. See them. Men are always
When love is a shimmering curtain Before a door of chance That leads to a world in question Wherein the macabrous dance Of bones that rattle in silence
We, this people, on a small and lo… Traveling through casual space Past aloof stars, across the way o… To a destination where all signs t… It is possible and imperative that…
Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts
My man is Black Golden Amber Cha… Warm mouths of Brandy Fine Cautious sunlight on a patterned r… Coughing laughter, rocked on a whi… Graceful turns on woolen stilts S…
We were entwined in red rings Of blood and loneliness before The first snows fell Before muddy rivers seeded clouds Above a virgin forest, and