In the thick of it all, I've lost everything that mattered to me. There is a storm that some know of and they see the weather in my eyes. It is these lines that say where the story should have began, where it should have been in the intersection of running themes, where it should have overcome every obstacle, and where it should have ended, and then humbly states where it has and where it will. The truth is what last leaves the mouth. It opens up the curtains and blinds the one who wanted to know the secret, the only secret being that blinding pain and nothing else, just an abrupt end to the dreaming.

There are no more words.

I wish for the world to fall into your hands.
For the oceans to flow in your veins,
for the soil to roll over your skin.
I wish for the fire to burn in your soul,
for the cool, still, air to fill your mind.
And I wish for all the peace to fill your eyes,
so that only hopeful rain you may cry.
And I wish for your heart to sail in the sky,
and to reach freedom as you fly.

Jagged Soul.

The uneven fit,
jagged edge in the life's world
it was written in the blue of it all
that it would never know it at all
and so is the fall
of the uneven fit in the world
and the jagged edge in a life
Everything feels lost tonight.

"Guerrero De La Independencia"

Cementerio de la Recoleta
Buenos Aires, Argentina

in any other world...

I am ancient.
satined, silked, and laced.
I dance en pointe to the hollow melody...
pianoed, violined, celloed
on repeat.
I spun with flocks of seagulls on an ancient beach
and watched your eyes turning everyday
away from me.

My eternal winter waits with me
only to view sun avoid sea.
Steady, moved, agile...patiently....
patiently.

Canyons weather larger
no desire lingers to cross those summer passes.
Against the water, rivered acreage,
against the back dropped meadows and rain forests
against the mighty elements that crawl me
out of my skin
I am ancient.

Colorblind analysis of a dappled orange sunset
it was a story closing in.
Still standing,
drunken in the desert
to wait and wish for the fabled return
of the only lost friend.

Sorrow becomes the soul
trickles black rushing through flush porcelain.
Distances, distances, miles and oceans to cross
and only one misty sailor remains.
I am dust and shattered gravel
kicked up, now settled
from the day you paved your road.
In the shadows of the street lamps and echoed halls
I felt you breathe.
Knowing I'll never feel you
feeling me.

I am ancient.
Satined, silked, and laced
and dance en pointe to the hollow melody...
pianoed, violined, celloed,
on repeat.
I've spun with a flock of seagulls on an ancient beach
and watched your eyes turning everyday
away from me.

I am ancient.
To be
misplaced memory
in a future unseen
I lost.
I am ancient.