BloodandRye

In the Spring I yearn for your voice.
It’s beauty among the forest with the
rain in duet, I kneel at your roots and
kiss your bark skin. I have lost your
call in the mud, to the changing winds,
but I’ve been persistent with my red
chest exposed. Above the canopy I
search the forest over, my arms wide
to embrace you for I’m a pirate perched
on a branch ready to peck your heart. But
it is my chest that bleeds red. As I
flew in search of your chords you didn’t
burn my ambition but kissed my vacant
bones and it’s warmth beats my wings.
As if the wind teases “come find me.”

A heavy fist. The sky boomed and
lightning cracked like glass, opening a
supernatural night. Let us become lost
in the mountains. Between chestnut
trees, magic illuminates scars in bark.
She said she loved me beneath the
canopy and she felt my bone fingers.
The fireflies danced in darkness, and
would not meet the moonlight kiss.
Ancient stones shook when we
clashed, and she left an impression
on my ribs.

But these are the sounds of lightning.
When I strike your earth, deafening love
is followed by a drunk rain. If street lights
could sway, we would see the skeleton
pines near the marsh. She would see the
boy beneath the water. She; a ghost bitch,
whispers on wasps wings of dreams washed
by morning sunlight.
Like the storm last night, renaissance clouds open my eyes to the woman in the mist.

I am graced by your soft kiss.
My love, why have you been so
distant?

You left me frozen in time, among
the sleeping dead, among your
passing gazes.

But now you greet me on
the South side of the town,
My love, you truly shine.

We’ll drink turpentine, and
blend all of the colours of spirits
unknown to this world, to
set them on fire.

In like a lion, out like a lamb,
our fires are extinguished so
we let the storm carry on.

Watching time in my face,
express it’s sharp prick,

I wonder, where the
winds have gone?

Stepping into an
undertow, looking
up the skirts of pines;

I will kiss the sun on
peaks off the earth… On
two feet.

Coffee stains on the
lip of my cup without
pressed red.

The winter proved I
am a beast, the Spring
pulls the bone devil.

When I was born I opened my eyes.
Wide, as if I had seen a ghost,
Curious of the shapes that flickered
in the hallways when my dreams would
drip from my ears. The midnight honey,
I sleep with my eyes open. For my whole
known existence, I have quietly observed.
Yet I am still surprised by the beauty
of the seasons, and in my dreams the facts
are blurred. I remain in awe, even until the
final sun. I will die with my eyes open.

Coloured carpets and frightening creatures.
Words rumbled raw! We sang about
pic-nick’s we never attended, of items we never had. A seed was planted in my heart.
I was peppered in murmurs of my future.
Black-top recess is when I learned the most. Swarmed by riddles like bees at Woodstock, Children got stung, but still they cried at the bonfire funeral. I would grow to become invincible.