It was a chill of early morn that woke me.
Being cloaked for rainshowers...

Timber limbs
falter like rain...

If the morning sun
stopped rising...

Endless tear drops fall upon frozen soles
of tattered, worn out shoes, scuffed with pain...

I am thunder,
a demolition...

Feet walk slowly, through muddy grass
and Popsicle sticks...

I long to become the silhouette
of the constellation that I gaze upon...

It doesn't matter how much cinnamon
I sprinkle in the folds of your smile...

Twisted is the night when rainfall brings her home
casting formations upon love circles and echos of...

I wrestled with darkness,
under a grieving moon...

I walked the pathway,
of my destiny in a dream...

Bizarre antics
twist and coil...