since I went blind I found a the passage through these windows

to the next century

making no payment and taking no notice

of such damp frames, damned to this house

locked forever in its structure of stone and worth

and with haunting discomfort and awkwardness

I disarm my glazing glass, inanimate and clear

leaning forth through its openness

leaping forth through its purity

I fall like a nail to a magnet

maneuvering my will towards the earth below

twisted, slick and disturbed

my body smashes against unforgiving ground, pervious and ready

tomatoes of red-fleshy wonder are then scraped, gathered and prepared

and pen, make lines that echo sweet words to flow

from my sore fingertips

The cool that came from the sheets brought a flush of winter to my flesh

I lay down on the pride of whiteness, and tug at the corners

I cover myself in cotton delight, fringed with satin touches

this morning, the mystery of small-lipped birds is sung out

loud and furious is their call in its entirety

important and dense their call inches toward me

granting me leave of worry and aches

this leafy bed appears before me, strong willed and towering

if you look

carefully

you can see it housing birds like fruit

in a tender cabinet of nature

they frolic and play, perched delicately on weathered branches

wings flutter as they pluck sweet berries from its host

divine and satisfied, they depart and fly off

my man has forged a passage

ever so successful and deliberate

when i am feeling like failure

and not fitting

with nasty voices of inadequacies

he is enough to carry me on his back

from the desert of my mind

to the mountains of new perspective

he believes in me

slowly, with content

he teaches me to silence the voices

i am writing in and along the river of my veins

this ancient river seldom swells

for it is a place of mystery and fear

ponderous silence and deep shade capture me

as the sun journeys far, making high shadows

the cathedral sounds made by my pumping heart echo

and sends my blood ricocheting

a note is almost heard with the acoustics and rhythm of sound

here now in the cushioned silence my heart

stops

standing in the tunnel, here underground

I was glad to see her hair growing long again

black and thick, unbrushed

draped across her face

painting a strange familiar picture

she giggled and smiled and invited me

to watch her pee

steaming

these two elusive tunnels

dark and ready

on a chair, a boy huddles, murmuring and singing

he hears and obeys the music

dread and joy unfold

and memory says that these passages will soon be full

and memory says the boy will stand and listen

emerged from his cocoon

and not unlike the human heart

the train rolls into its position, before the rest of us

and it clouds our ears and our ability to receive the smallest sounds

someday I will become clear and whole

a soul lost, almost forever

risking blasphemy and hate

alone I wander

torn like the sail of a gallant ship

moving slow like the water of a dying river

to them, my other life is a coffin of sickness

i walk the ring of confusion, golden and certain

for me, I obey and deny nothing

for them, I am walking round in space

cracked like a chestnut

deep and planted

stubborn and rooted

the luxurious jam of life is spread thin

and I am hungry for more