take me to the potter’s wheel swerving through the potter’s fields my navigator: charting joys true north, atlas sand down my sharps to curve jagged edges into a puzzle piece long-lost presented to the Kingdom allow me your eyes to find greens i could not conceive gold in

pour a benevolent God into my hands it rains this morning as i wake in the glory of the indigo sky blueberry-grey with jupiter aligned rescinding the entropy of my splintered bones says she’d like to love with the light of the divine earth-eyed girl abyss with no rift

pale horse rots in your cardinal song decimated under how you obey splintered and condemned daughterless under your wing where i hemorrhage and divide pen letters to the brush fires about the sharpness of your teeth call you a vampire but you are mother of the clay bloody hook anointed

self a shrine of its enslavement monument of parallel runes carved angry-pink as bleeding borealis marred vessel adorned with lavastone and glass sphere sunlit trinkets kneading soft-clay splints and spackle sickness sleeps in cenotaph dying held and seen, beset and clothed by wildflower monolith in homespun glory, unbecoming mild and

blinding daylight gone seeking past the old city cemetery to disappear into the violets adorning the spires of the earth’s bones where i once bedraggled begged for the privilege of dying sickly, silent, unsung, astray under your porch steps, sleepwalking into the mercies of your porcelain sky all in

lethal vantage of ophan-crowned queen poised, lithe and omniscient to claim vagrants vigilant guarding marble harbor to tangent plane forged within the rookery wash my face - walk tall, to sound not the dinner bell for the carnal shells. the sordid corporeals lurking: ice pick in hand to crack my

sowing into foreign tribe chain-breaker, song-maker obeys persistently in transmitting overflow paints joy upon the mire — rewrites what it means to know blue, and they’ll know you where you’ll live pressed lilies and unsung epilogues where my home be glorified and my nieces laugh they’ll know you

face me in the reckless grieving of your sleep in the torments of your mornings in the embrace of captive bones face me in the volatile tides of your nice in the weight of your outrunning in the snares of your great shame face me in the reflection of the

courier of cosmic collapse no blood spilled in the sacrament seamless transfusion of righteous virtue valiance in the face of the ungovernable entity framing its rage with blue flowers crystalizing primality, beckoning higher-mind forth into sober sunday smiles spoon-fed softness against current of cataclysmic shift all sleeps gold-green again childhood

distance between two lives — a severance: mended set motionless against time knit my warmest december with patchworked mercies and dog-eared smiles given place to find all is well on higher shelves something borrowed, something blue radial wave encompassing the quiet patience of my void and living is being in love

back, now:  where wind is Creation singing praise where His name is trapdoor out of dreams with teeth  and i calendar an anniversary  of the night a rabbit died and there are little flowers on an umbrella that are so wonderfully alive and where i taste, and see that there&

a soul-thread thrumming in the vibrant lethargy of wilted spring magnetic hands flush in devotion where the heat worn heavily riles ghosts untethered in the veins strikes an ache into the bones joints unhinging in weighted thirst inspires feral restless writhing told to rot sweetly and roil under the ruthlessness

hope like the river’s bends rinsing smoldering vials of sin tirelessly through endless season eyes bright and brand new each fresh dawn, always woven into a veil of peace concentrated servant-song shaped to replace rusted nails anointed in a humming home my knuckles bleed into the mortar of your

august’s waning augments altostratus angst breathing old white oak sheet-white rains over bones clean-picked in yellow jackets warm milk thistle masked as ironweed with shoulders tensed at treeline bows to barometric rage unreclused yet unawake lunar anomalies lack lyricism stagnating the tesselating of the articulatory vines bordered in deep

in the spaces where the sky cuts in mirage of sunlight bleeds illusion of far-off tropical storms two planes converge seared with purpose refined of impurities on curved handle of wood-ax wake to warm grass transmuted to frozen blade scavenging reserves against dying light though body keeps score, my God