boy and bird

i read a story
of a boy who'd never hurt
self-stalled, wouldn't fall

then, one who jumped - deep,
expecting, couldn't keep o'er
the waves; they broke him

both phoenix'd; all's fine
but presuming lost both time

suggestion: love, let.

RGB

same lights, new jungles
and these forests are deep, rich
canopies, alive

deep bass

do you acknowledge:
these dream-like occurrences
are stubbornly real

if before, in doubt
you sought assurances, now
it's a beat you feel

***

we sailed a boat once,
out past the docks, and we jumped
off your bow, tandem

our ins and outs

nostalgic notions
mud and wood hikes, pennies flat
our compelling tides

***

please plait my brown locks
but if you pull my hair, i'll
pull yours; s'only fair.

who's pulling

some say, in your dreams,
you're third person to the scene–
hands-off narrator

ah, but be awake
and when your tendons pull, pay
mind to who's pulling

diabolical colors

I dream in pigments–
not only shy reds and blues;
there are wicked hues

cracks

glad that we have knees
and waists, fingers, since sometimes
I just want to fold