Split Eight

[Split]

scattering ashes
10/2/14

http://www.opticalspy.com/uploads/1/...48928_orig.jpg

Sevilla, shalom:
closeness, I never embraced.
her visage transfixed,
"Anju, another story?"
then she read herself silent.


ISLAND
9/25/14

http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs70/i/20...y_designtu.jpg

later, rather than soon the occasion will rise,
I'll pour you out in the dunes & we'll wait for the tides.
waves for goodbye. "soon" is a day that breaks every time,
for you, I'll stay for the ride. By one, the news will say you're survived,
this and more at eleven: as eleven's the age that we're tied.
remember to never change for me, chime; fatal, entwined-
insular. death came graceful but bitter, tasteful as vinegar wine-
but I think I'll decline. it would be my wish, for the night.
to sink blue into the burn of a blackness. dilate the sea,
dip into twilight a skyline an axis, a flyweight to breeze-
just to emerge in a blink in the eyes of a temptress,
sink into sighs of the divide in-between. dive, submarine,
into dim incandescence. the ocean will take us. a security blanket.
shelter from the burning sensation. the sprawling marine
a salty saline that crushes, compressed, lungs are just spent
at the brink of forgetting you'll surely surface, gush into breath-
nervous, a wreck. make for the archipelago. a shuddering mess.
huddling, clenched. ditch the bottle and message,
face an angel then a ghost, and show the land water-
it's a stapled envelope: full of fools gold and sand dollars,
jetset, & flotsam. no, you'll stand tall, for age is pentecostal:
get closer to God until you're practically one, save for a father,
but you can pray for your daughter & break your back for your son,
build a home along the coast, and capture every last bit of young
til your bed sags the bars with the rust, dressed as a casket for one
as your days are dawn nigh. and your coffers are wrung dry.
as sooner rather than later, the occasion must rise.


is (we are)
8/27/14

love is everything, a whisper-- she loves
as whispers meet... a sudden distance
of emptied forests, sing. in between. you
and me, lower voice, still (hushed)
forgetting all as Monday morning
flushed an open void. swill, cup
solo read. a bad reminder, rushed
hungover stress, as absent-minded
as brainless Starbucks quotes with no
beginning and no end. tomorrow
never must restart- as harsh as when the winter
warrants getting thinner. one of these does not belong
love, is everything- a whisper.