spre

Flushing across my face in a moment of fear, preternatural. The crush of metal, then silence, then the inane hum of radio chatter resumes below the hissing of airbags, rasping breath, and settling. A split second, gone. The fear lingers, clumped together in moments that grab at my shirtsleeves and the corners of my eye. 'Pay attention to me' they say from nowhere. Sharp pounding heart. They let go. But tightness grips my forehead Because I can't let go of what is holding me.

in the lonely hours in the dark of night where shadows are heavy with the weight of being we become small fleshless things distilled and shriveled devoured by our natures akin to the unseen things that wait for our embrace

Freshwater hopes in saltwater waves, On turbulent wake and recurrent tides The child wakes with the whale’s heart Two become one and hope abides.

There's an itch in my bones A craving to trace the north winds home And watch the migrations turn south Following its currents. As I head home I will pass through Winter's gate. The chill of nights An inexact echo of what's to come. A foretelling. The road is long and narrow But quick and sure and clear. Open skies and half-frozen lakes Will great me home. I seek the raven's cry, Harsh and fractured As it breaks the night's quiet, A herald singing mere existence. As I leave the Great Lakes call behind me Open and vast, I take their wake, The sound of a beast contained, And hold it near me. As only vast and empty things can, It fills me

My heartbeat cries, Doom Doom Doom Doom Doom Doom I don't want to listen but it's the only voice I hear.

I awoke with a fist full of hair and bile in my throat Eyes wide, hands shaking- Like overworked muscles forced to stillness. I dreamt of lost days and fear driven nights Sweat, an exhausted stain on my sheets.

I wish I had the time to solve the puzzle of your ever changing eyes, learn the patterns of your dance-slide-stomping footsteps, and follow you through your internal Wonderland maze as we dance to a midnight wedding revelry. I would finger the edge of your buttoned-up tweed vest and help you lose your glasses in the moonlight beneath the pines. Your ruffled hair, my fault, would look haphazardly styled and in. Our friends, we'll lose them in the grassy tufts of beach brush and the wind will harmonize with our sighs. I wish I had the time to return your wayward glances and match my stride to yours. We'd hop-skip-trip along the shallows of L