....helpless against the riotous night;
i have always needed grey
clouds to roll below
me, scrolling my wretched voice
in a sky falling

how she does laugh and stretch
her magenta thick tapestry above my eyes

i cannot dare to see.
i cannot bare to be.
alive beneath
what cannot free

me;
be.

leave me…

those hammers in my hand.. ….
those prayers in my head.. …
those flowers in my hair. …
all

.. ..humming along
with the deaf executioner’s song,
and. .

slipping

lilacs loosely
like a lysander
around my neck,
like the halo around my feet
made of Godwood..

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