feet striking cold sand the ache in my chest warms me

the touch of a hand– clouds of misgivings retreat into pure sky

in cold, stone walls of certain ruination– a door to freedom

all things fade away even a brick foundation will crumble

mysterious gaze does she wonder if I’m real?

wasted energy doors sliding open and closed for mere reflections

thick, sturdy brick walls folding in and out elusive space

loading wood– rusted metal chipping off the old truck bed

beauty and light at the end of the dark narrow mind

over time old walls crumble and new ones are raised

the sun the earth, the water, the air the center

splintering woods paint peeling, penetrating lonely forests

a shattering truth penetrating the silence of a wounded soul

2 a.m. readings of random poems and palms caked in the shit we shovel when we should be sleeping

impact: art of breaking through boarded up windows

chipping away at a broken heart turned to stone

some words never meant to be spoken

“I’ll be here.” the limited-time offer of a lifetime

“I am free” she whispered– stone lips crumbling

mixed signals are we bound? or are we free?

always running miles turning into years a race against time

the faces around the table keep changing

two lone runners nod heads as if confessing the same secrets

love– scribbled on walls constructed by man

Big Sky, wide open accepting all conditions as they come and go

irreplaceable broken body left for parts

old baggage, zippers broken, contents falling out trailing a mess

silent screams and hushed dreams drawn into stone  

seven-forty-five smell of coffee wafting out windows

contemplating the urban forest and its steel-framed trees

old love for sale what a ride it was

walking home late enveloped by damp blackness traffic light ahead

night-encompassed calm warm glow of city lights after a rain

enraged in his cage he begged her not to cry as she lay broken

walking on rooftops one-hundred-and-two stories in the air

so many windows but not a single goddam door

amber anvil paint peeling, feeling hammered summer’s end

over the city the soul of all beings painted in blue

hiding love in cracks and crevices of near-broken walls

i once held the moon and with stars in your eyes you held me too

somewhere between this world and that one will interrupted  

on the other side a bullet and a buddha sit as one  

ramschackle state the only way out is through

flash of green against a pale blue morning sky

released by the pain and suffering not from

unhurried aware, at last, that home is neither here nor there