Sound

I flow where
The wind blows
Caressing you
Flowing through
Your soul

The Hidden

Hidden behind the desk
Crumpled on the floor
Tossed aside, he whispers
"Not good enough," he's
Waiting for some sublime
Train of thought to emerge
There, behind the desk
Is the seed, waiting to
Ignite a flurry of ideas

Blue Skies

I wake to dark eyes
When we kiss
I taste blue skies
Memories flash
Behind closed lids
Of teenagers
fumbling through love
All desire and need
An innocent longing
Now we're jaded
Life has worn us down
One thing remains
Or love and memories
Will never fade

Cocooned

Fevered dreams filled
With fragmented lives
Rivers flow down my
Parched, burning body
Every movement an
Excruciating caress
Lay within a cocoon
Too weak to move
Mumbling some long
Lost childhood song
Until oblivion comes