Balanced

I followed the black rivulets down my nail beds and into my chest,

scraped them into glistening oil and leaned my head back while it dripped

ground wine into my cerebellum

that’s what control’s balance

wire-tight I tread on Niagara

 below

 how soft it looks

You are a cat and I am a ball of string that keeps trying to wind itself up

look at my unraveling doesn’t it look so tidy

like tides pulling at geometric shores

profaned nature – that is what every human is

I am every human

their silent voices staring from lowered glances reverberating in my ensconced oil drum of a nutcase

encased in glass I wander

wondering at the splendor we have wrought

towers rising high to pierce the night

black dribbling down their antennae

drop by drop they balance perfectly tip-toe on the sidewalk

silent night updating status and glancing at the profane

cognizant and unknowing

I let them all drip into me

It keeps me balanced

Time will color us faded

Old_South_Church,_Boston_(Boston_Public_Library)

Time will color us faded
like an old Polaroid
dusty with forget
snapshots of faces without history
of lives free of context.
We splash vibrant onto this world.
Crimson and sapphire
I shimmer into your rods and cones.
Dilating and contracting
we sync our colors
you and I.
I am dripping scarlet.
smearing agony
I can feel the brush’s stroke
softly
softly
like whispers on a bare neck
swaying lithely with some unheard rhythm
elegant lines painting form feminine
darling dearest
quietly do I fade
noiselessly my color sifts
like echoes down a corridor
like an ocean whispering to the horizon.