My man is Black Golden Amber Cha… Warm mouths of Brandy Fine Cautious sunlight on a patterned r… Coughing laughter, rocked on a whi… Graceful turns on woolen stilts S…

You drink a bitter draught. I sip the tears your eyes fight to… A cup of lees, of henbane steeped… Your breast is hot, Your anger black and cold,

Give me your hand Make room for me to lead and follow you beyond this rage of poetry.

I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,

Curtains forcing their will against the wind, children sleep, exchanging dreams with seraphim. The city

You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you?

We, unaccustomed to courage exiles from delight live coiled in shells of lonelines… until love leaves its high holy te… and comes into our sight

Your skin like dawn Mine like musk One paints the beginning of a certain end. The other, the end of a

Funky blues Keen toed shoes High water pants Saddy night dance Red soda water

A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing

We were entwined in red rings Of blood and loneliness before The first snows fell Before muddy rivers seeded clouds Above a virgin forest, and

One innocent spring your voice meant to me less than tires turning on a distant street. Your name, perhaps spoken,

When you come to me, unbidden, Beckoning me To long-ago rooms, Where memories lie. Offering me, as to a child, an att…