WIND

the migration
Originally uploaded by biancavanderwerf

an argument with solid things.
a question that wants to remain,

questioning.

both sides of my skin, stirred.

something lost in
recognition.

cold morning beauty can co-exist
with fine-lined anguish.

my son wakes wild eyed, i wake

vanished.

conquests after lady's skirts and
important letters held loose
by distracted fingers.

always the wind.

once mine once come from come
through but not of
me residue of yesterday's dramatic exit
soul risen from uninhabitable body
good-bye is a sound oncoming
storms shoving past structure
combustible language dizzying
run on invisible flames
running cold i
feel them
i feel ...

the storm's eye fixed on me
from a distance. what can
it possibly see?

chaos burns quietly. its liquid name
replenished by the vapors that hang
on after my breath. ~ linger ~
a cat at my lips while i sleep,
a sleek thief. ether's thin skin heavily
tattoed - deeply graffitied by Being's quirks
and symbols - a twitch at my eye - a sigh
i contribute to the onslaught of crosswinds.

i feel
again i feel and repeat i
feel and keep
going through the motions. muscle moved
by bone, bone
first, moved
by chance. a brittle branch creeking in
a selfless breeze.