Its time for my teeth to come in and then

come right back out again.

Its time for my mouth to come right out and say it.

I jumped on that bed once,

below the window shaped like a crescent moon,

shaped like a smile.

I was trapped in that room once, briefly.

and that half-moon window waned once,

and that half moon window cried once.

From the outside now I can see just a little bit of light that seeps out

from the top.

as if some just has to escape, before the cup runneth over.

as if there is just too much light in there,

but its still not as bright as it used to be.

Building buildings within the breaks of the thunderstorms

pouring concrete right onto rust the second you you don’t hear anymore thunder.

Crustaceous brown seepage spreading , infiltrating all the crevices and canyons.

Dividing parallel segments like heaven and earth,

into heaven and earth;

Dripping from the load bearing cathedrals right into my eyes.

and all the stained glass,

all that green, all over the pages.

Hung from strings and chains,

set idly behind a palm tree , like it wasn’t supposed to ever be there.

Leaning slightly to the left, like it wasn’t supposed to ever be there.

but missing any of the surrounding archipelagos entirely,

off the mark , in the best way possible.

Wading through silken ropes,

in silken pools, splashed by silver.

Instead sunken and smiling and wondering if you’ll still have to wait in line for any concessions.

and consider if the garden of Eden is worth all the weeds.

Trapped in that cave,

tucked in and charging,

quietly brooding.

carefully optimizing.

Contrary to whatever it is the climbing vines are doing.

Whatever charade they are engaged in.

Whatever jungle it is we ended up getting lost in.

Nightmares and nightshade were laid at your feet a long time ago,

along with so many stories.

at the base of these headstones; shaped like lampshades.

like headstones/

Laid bare here, in this forest of yore.

Although, lacking important context, altogether.

Laid bare, nonetheless.

Short and sweet.

These recurring nightmares,

and the automatic bill-pays

stand perfectly still in the darkness,

so that you might not see them,

so that you might run right into them,

into their waiting mouths.

Completely and honestly

but everyone will be readily aware of the knicks and and burns you suffered whilst shaving

and the brutal burning.

They’ll be hyperaware of you in hyperspace, and your standing in there.

and all of your stab wounds, too.

and how peroxide feels on them.

As well as your purchase history.

and what makes you laugh, too.

This anemic shift wont necessarily be gradual either,

you wont bleed out immediately.

There will be less of you to be sure, and it will be violent .

The blood loss less apparent as you were already wearing red.

This seismic shift is even more eventual than you remember.

Furious tectonic plates rubbing together, constantly.

and there you are falling backwards, intermittently.

Rubbing against one another, and yep. you guessed it…biblically.

and just like and Abraham and Isaac before you and everyone else,

you’ll crumble too.

We can give the polar ice caps a break for once,

boring as they are were.

Distant as they seem to be

(they turned their heads when I asked a question so I wouldn’t really know)

Rescued by that flawless cardinal , searing red against a blue sky, facing a redder sun.

Soaring upwards towards that blue (r) sky,

that burning bird; outrunning our burning sky (ies)

Not quite a phoenix,

Not quite the apex.

Still seeking solid ground , but only this one time.

Repeating itself sometimes, with each furious flap of its wings,

but this time,

that bashful red bird isn’t so sure he wants to fool everyone.

He isn’t walking quite as fast, and his song is slower.

Having asked for forgiveness many times before,

but this time confused and out of breath

he’ll ask thrice.

Half moon-

Half-

Half way there, at least.

We aren’t watching ourselves.

We aren’t outrunning anyone,

which doesn’t exactly inspire confidence,

in any particular cadence.

No seven gun-salutes,

no standing ovatations,

but there definitely is one,

there is some.

there was one,

a sun kissed center of attention.

But were still not entirely sure we aren’t swimming with parasites each time we put our head under water,

Through the heat waves all the wakes the look the same and

the boats that brought them to shore.

We still aren’t even sure if those are even dolphins we saw.

and we wrestle with that every night.

Drafts are fine,

but never in All Caps,

never.

Obscured by that refreshing waterfall

and the re-runs in the waiting room trying to put you to sleep.

Adjacent to a fountain and definitely not a loch.

Assuaged by seemingly endless bromeliads

a royal tip purple at the spout, where all the fucking plant blood pools.

Gentle honeysuckle if your not looking,

regular honeysuckle if the restaurant is out of it.

It all stinks of chlorine and captivity .

Captured , drawn and quartered out in front of the fountain

by the HOA, like were in some film.

and now your DOA, in violation of you and whoever else’s CBA.

if your not directly under those bright spots,

or in duress under water or in captivity,

lay next to the solar flares;

drift upwards towards the canopy.

Both are reaching out to tell you something,

both ended up calling collect;

maybe it was something about volition

or maybe it was something about the gargantuan

Swollen and questionable,

but that sparkle,

man, that motherfucking sparkle.

That tiny bit of twilight still remains.

Utterly parched at this point, starved, naked and exposed.

Sun kissed and still relevant – all part and parcel now.

Very much part of this desert and these ruins and definitely ready to be scavenged.

I am barely on two wheels,

let alone driving comfortably on three on these wet streets.

There’s no one in the passenger seat, but someone is turning the pages for me.

Biblical and transformative; the bird bath on it’s side,

a three point turn , THREE.

There’s not one snake in sight ,

the muffled light still gives us a chance go see

gives us pause,

but were not even close, and in some ways we’ve never been closer to the truth.

to the the peeking lights, to these able bodies.

Squinting through the closet slats, even if that means we get a tentative view.

and in some ways, I still am still here

I am still

I am THEE.

Surfing and sometimes forgetting

occasionally forgetting,

forgetting about a brand- new something.

Offf the cufff,

and barely breaking a sweat; even at this breakneck speed.

Still surfing, and still somehow forgetting about all that extra borrowed time,

with really nothing to look at along the way.

We’ll occasionally still find the words.

We probably will find the pictures.

but we don’t look at it ,

even then.

at them.

If we don’t look at it,

we wont go,

with nothing to look at,

we cant.