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the palm-leaf

alone. / the harsh beauty. / salt waves / strike the sandward grain. / the palm-leaf / totters at the edge

Earth as a planet needs tending to

One cant love without fear of exposing / tender parts to pain, nor can one leave / love to feeling incomplete, to make sense / from pain, never-ending, like glare.

Mer de Glace

Under ice / we breathe in shrunken sentences, / locked in / by the firn dome overhead / moving through our white sleep / like a clock’s hour hand.

Recognition

The world becomes another / story. I see nothing so clearly / as myself, and that / smudged. The mirror I took / for a wife has run off / with my eyes.

Day Of Mourning

Claws

Fear is all you need

air

[rack’m up again]

Communication . . .