Recipe of a strange love

How natural a conclusion

To ride the long road

that each night we built

from the indigo corner to the

bright shining moon. And when

its light ignites my eyes

may I blindly trust your stride.

;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.

On the road for the past year

Flying, not fucking.

Flying, never arriving at the end

Of where she has been,

and you haven’t.

For one flies and the other

lived in a despisedgospel

created too by yourself.

How natural.

;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.

A blast of envy and anger,

but it doesn’t suit the bond

Melting it like collagen.

One grey chair

And grey sheets for autumn

Chaining the limbs-- comfort and confusion.

I’ll jump out of bed, out of these lines

I’ll try to kiss your cheeks

Animal to animal, as naturally it is.

;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.;.

Back from the moon to this room,

While the choc-chip cookies bake

Chunky, wet, buttery:

The smell invited music

And the warmth of the oven

melts binding chains, glues, and materiality.

Free and loveless...