Deep in the belly of Paradox

two eastern smiles, trusting

under the ashes

of a sputtering decade.


Brushing, blushing skin:

chemical sation for primal unrest




the tireless, crucial work of unmasking:

lean a little closer to the sun.


See spots of light


In my brother's eyes:

two years later


Orbiting the living room:

eight years old


Decorating raw eyelids:

see you through skin


See you soon.


Taurean silhouettes grow slow life

from missile dust, emery herds of coal

bring me back to my river bed

through god-castles, rose ochre and bruised.