The White Orchestra

From the red garden
soaked with calescent blood,

                                                 the threads of a willow tree
                                                 the lungs of the night
                                                 exhausted and cardinal.

With heart, engrossed
pulled ripe from her chest
your body seems lighter, now.

She still stands, there
her eyes are black, amorous
and from her, the sound
of a pearl-white orchestra.




Deep, bellowing sky
rippling through mulberry lilies,
kindling spirits of love lost
to be reborn again
in their jubilant sway.






Stained Glass Memories

Share with me this lucidity,
an amorous shell of fragile wisdom,
molten disparity, solid warmth,
kisses of sugared cherries and grape.
Hear them mulling in burning chests,
as the sun strikes down upon black crowns,
offering no more than
exhausted exaltation.
Hoarding time and gathering detail
we capture this earthly colour
in our stained-glassed memories.


The Blue Embrace

The sea was calling.
As I stood on the edge of the world
I imagined everything suddenly
turning on it's side.
The water below moved over the rocks
like cells dividing, 
and the rocks sang warning to the sea
to open her weary arms
to me.

Fields of Carmine

I left my
in a coffin
made of webs
where it grows wild and
in fields of carmine.
I often miss the pain.
The fruitful anguish of
with a 
bellowing chest.