you, an army motorized by their grace?
you, a grain of pepper in the salt of their seas
become nothing as you merge
your opus, a scream unheard
motorized, nothing, opus
jester, keep, languid
you, a crumpled jester in the mirror
a simpleton can never
mirror that which you keep
that languid will, that weakened soul of yours
generous, heathen, intersperse
the cosmos are especially generous
an offering to this heathen
beguine beloved go if you must
intersperse into the light
depend, exit, flowers
sister of mine, beguine beloved
veils as a prayer
pressed flowers depend on closed books
exit if you must through him
annhilation, backwards, crystallizes
you who crumples in
backwards into your mind
as the light crystallizes a thought-
annhilation as a form of love
here in this body of mine
this body of mine is a temple
i pray and i live here
i float away in spirit
but i return here
here in this body of mine
soul is not metaphorical
life is not a test
this rugged reality is real
but the body- the temple
the soul- perpetual ruins
i dress to dance and then to sit
i wake to eat to then go back to sleep
i amount to nothing to everyone
i walk to go, to arrive and then retreat
i amount to nothing to mostly everyone
i dress to dance and then to sit
i am nothing but nothing to everyone
but i’ll say this:
all that you own and achieve
can you take it with you after death?
i know with all i have, i can
we all return to death
we are the children of death
the moment we breathe our first breath
mother isn’t mother
fate would not have it that way
we all return to death
but refusal to live is punishment
this breath is not a precious stone
this life is not purpose filled prose
this body is not a perfect prison
this living is just for living
broken mirrors and unfinished pillars
here’s to the rugged reality
where sadness has visited
and after two decades
has finally left
broken mirrors and unfinished pillars
my face will never be the same
my pace is slow to react
unable to let go of the mistakes
under my smile i hide
these ruins are not metaphorical
test the patience of peace
test the waters i will
i have been flogged by life
so test the fires i will
i only come to know the winter’s love
test the patience of peace
and chaos i will bring
but i’m just this woman
this scowl is not frightening enough
i don’t know what fate is
i am as ignorant as they come
Early Dew of Morning 
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