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. 

Benched

The bench spoke to me. 
I waited so long: 
the daily walks,
the nervous glances,
 - hoping. 
I made excuses, 
now thinking about it, 
to walk by. 
Deluding myself to believe.

No,

I do like walking.

I do like that bench.
 
Around and around
that gnarly,
blood-footed path.

And then
sat, 

“please leave“ it requested. 
An underwhelming introduction, 
but 
chills and flutters
still. 
I walk on.

Sanctuary

Cradle in the arms of pine needle anemone
Wash in the light of magnetic, bleach sand
The biochemical hum of gray matter overlapping white
Subtle lucidity of this square foot garden

Find your sanctuary,
Build your peace

Honest Tea

Of all the colors counting
my favorite one is you. 
I couldn't be more happy
if all the snacks were blue.
Statistically speaking - tongue tied - 
vomiting words, 
but all completely true.