heavy with paint
in dreams i’m holding the brush again, my index finger pointed at bristles heavy...
a betrayal
in a millisecond you can feel it ring true that knowing without knowing in...
once upon a when
these feet once filled with rage prowled familiar streets and lanes in my dreams...
all a twitter
anger in any form is anger, naked and pure. righteous indignation is never righteous...
still shivered
there’s never one reason for leaving (though mistaken heads nod in approval at fables...
mirage
beneath a field of wine speckled with fire the air cool and dry, weightless...
dreaming in yellow
when passion runs deep what bubbles to the surface? behind each facade a face...
my epitaph #2
no plot of land or headstone for me. just toss my ashes into ocean...