Nite rote

The sound of the ocean is relentless, this is the nite rote

Markets of Study

the sky dies on a Friday afternoon

it makes the world elegant with sadness

Thalia laughs and gets drunk

A Rarity

the universe sees

you float outside the airlock

gentle with love

Latey

the sky pours out

who can say where it begins

yet where it peels back



we divide a secret

between the luminous and obscured

with focus on pleasure

Slow Light

we long to behold

the mountain that fell from space

in slow red moonlight

Miles and Kilometers

remembering the future

is the most painful state of being

Thalia’s quiet laughter

Archangel

I’d give you the crown

if I thought you were ready

to use the bowstring

Thunderstorm

in Pompeii’s voids of ash

love is a commitment

made under the eyes of death



during the blood moon

we see all the sunrises and sunsets

of earth in one moment



everything has happened

well before we were aware of it

hills so far in the eyes

Gratitude

my cut fingers will

endurance of memory

from a clay sculpture



on the dead sea shore

salt crystals mimic history

rote waves roll onward



the sunlight fell hard

upon the edge of our bodies

through cracks in the sky

So Will Be

neon sting is fate

for the hidden creatures

we encounter in leaves

Running Dry

see you tomorrow

the moon says to the pale blue dot

gravity’s drip sustains 

Fresh Bread

her patch of the sky

is all moonlight and chaos

that I want to hold



she does her makeup 

as I ask about sacrifice

landslides and earthquaks

Or Whatever

muscles so ripe

that on the fourth day

the avocado was ready



my hands sprout flowers

after I grasped what you gave me

a brave proposal



my toes dance

with the power of premonitions

on your belly

Cathedral Duo

a patch of grass

lays down in pattern

a doe runs away

Shibari

you have seen stone clouds no doubt

you cannot deny the stone rain

you shiver a vein of citrine quartz

how you give away the sky

how long will it take for you to give away the sky

you go on a tigress in wait

you are in shibari prison

I tie you to the cloud

I release you the veins

I see the tigress do doubt

I cannot deny your fangs

Moth

divine Persepolis

we walk a million paces

to show our gratitude



This clever piece was conjured up and contributed by Moth.