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���when i don't return
������when the moon has kissed ������the sky more than 7 times ������and my chest yearns ������the crushing kiss of your ������lingering breasts stenciling ������our initials past a thin night ������of chest hair to the daylight ������of heart - nipples rising like ������water to baptize my cheek, lick circles ������inside my lips ������resurrect this tongue ������to speaking wetness aloud ������i burn when the footsteps of your ������syllables do not walk ������across the lanes of my ears ������like fast typing words ������streaming from electric brain cells ������words flowing from electric cells ������words flowing from eyes ������flare of nostrils ������voice a soft aviary ������gliding in formation ������through my inhalations ������consumed ������i awaken ������cold ������blank and ������burning ������cold and... ������... it remains untold ������unscratched ������an unreachable itch ������hairline fracture in the shell ������of forgetfulness ������this pain of loss ������pinprick of black spot ������turned black hole ������in the sun/ ������barrel of a gun ������eclipse ������leveled between my eyes ������a snow of melted metaphor ������on an ocean of lies ������a blemish on this ������shining son of the Son of Man ������blemishes on my soul ������a man of woe i am ������birthed from the gateway ������of thighs of woman ����i am a woe - man ������collecting and attracting ������mojo dust 'til my skin ������turns black as blues ������blue as seas of my blood's ������airlessness ������i sing in my sleep as ������i swim through blue salt water ������gathered from the creeks ������of myriad dreaming eyes ������my life is indigo ������my life is blue ������my lies are blue ������the lie that i paint a life ������is blue as this unreachable itch ... and ����i can't breathe ����without you ������but to you i'm unseen ������unseen is this house of my skin ������as i stand in ������your street ������collecting wind ������feeling it spin through my hollowness ������like the instrument created ������when my yearning breath skated ������the hard blue lips of a wine bottle ������filled with a folded piece of moon ������with a message spelled out in ������dark fooprints of invisible ink ���F-R-E-E-D-O-M ������i am a woe - man ������i am my own shadow in a straitjacket ������casting no reflection when i try ������to see me ������i am a door ajar ������a whisper that echoes across ������the universe's four corners ������but no one hears ������i am the dust on the bed's underside ������woe - man ������existing ������but breathing no more. ������Copyright�2001 by Andrew Bryan Carson ������All Rights Reserved |
  
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