four lungs

inhale
you can breathe me

it's ok
to be this momentary lapse

no need to ask
forgiveness for the need
to collapse again

even you can't hold that breath
forever

stale would be the least of sins
and
not to worry
there will be another
arriving shortly



wb

reflecting

two broken mirrors
crying face to face
into the cracked lips
of deflections of self
reflected again and again

broken infinities blinking back
asking where the story ends
and why it had to heed the call
of the starting gun at all

kiss these jagged cheeks
make me believe
that seven years
is too long to repent



wb

atlantis

for now,
there is nothing to say
the weather is the weather

all sound is muffled anyway

human speech, audible
and unintelligible under water

submerged is everything
that was once known as land

the ocean decided
to climb everest

time to sink
or swim
as far as wings can
carry out the masquerade



wb

i choose the apple

been making white bread
out of your wheaty
golden stalk

been stalking the diseased
portion of the lobe
responsible for speech

been speaking to you
without letting the sound
express what i mean

been meaning to write
but these hands have chosen
crippled professions


i miss you
i miss you
i must profess
i miss you,

my Eden



wb

away, but never far

you can look at the moon as a circle
but there are no single sided lines
and that one has three

one towards you
one towards me
and the other,
away from everything

but it does not bisect

it is the shortest distance.
though, longer
than the meandering trail we're used to
wrapping ourselves into
when it's cold
and body heat is the best remedy

but baby
i will not be far
merely a finger away
when you trace our steps
across the kitchen floor
through the bedroom door
and behind the lids i kiss
before curling us into cutlery




wb