Close Your Eyes, Passerby

Close your eyes:
A tortuous path ‘round leaves,
a smoky inhale,
an acrid, honey exhale
smiling sweet in the pane.
It’s nice, they say,
when your eyes open
and that place you stay...

The ocean at the end
of the lane, 
out there.
Quietly waiting
with the sun, we stare. 

Digging my own grave
inside a bottle of Jack.
Living life worth leaving
and it ain’t half bad.
Kill me with a smile;
never take it back. 

Don’t know what’s waiting,
passing through trees out there.
A hazy, white wolf 
with a welcome-home glare. 

A knock at my soul
hello to the ones who stay.
Chilling with my friends
fuck the rest away. 

Tasseography

Tired grow the eyes,
yet hunger fills the dreams.
Seconds dwindle daily
while life’s leaves steep.
Words I speak fairly, 

“None too fair,  
the lives we keep.” 

In the bottom,
the porcelain fine print, 
you wonder of the tea.
To smile sweet;
just grudge on,
or change indefinitely.