In the mining fields I've come to know dismantled wings who needed attention, redemption or fixing for the monster serpents of us; now further degraded. disfigured. by the sea you drug along over head.
In sun lit river waters run where they might've mocked me but I return to their brown curbed spaces by day; in their basin shaped dreams at night and together we float up into impressionable passages of literary heads first Those pockets...etching closer the pouring across stone- heart; gaffled by the repositories of hope who still stand journey full/ journey expectant.
Constellations were swarming with each breath taken like fireworks but stars were part of the permanent fixture for sky and moon lit path down the canal of darkness- a dance with the possibilities of oceanic utterances sharing a single tide; vastly becoming me.