Monday, March 26, 2018


I feel different -

I rest my spine against the red clay
And thrust my hips to the sky.

I sweat those unsweet memories
In salty, unfiltered beads
And they explode, pensively
Causing volcanoes
And growing molten flowers within the dunes
Glorious in this Crimson yearning

I let go of nineteen,
And whiskey-sours

I smoke weed to sleep soundly
And listen to Labrador snores
In place of crickets.

I realize that pain is beautiful
And meaningful