Tell me.

Tell me what you love when you think i am not listening


Prince is dead

purple rains

Bowie serenades

his orchestrated death

mid heavens


Virginia Woolfe scaled full circle,

then walked the ocean

alone, full pocketed, green Stones
Too much thinking;

too much beauty


not enoughs, Love
All those notes

All those letters….
What happened to Jeff Buckley

Echoes of after lives

Walked the Mississippi river

Said his goodbyes a lullaby

Of planning

future kings and his mother

Left waiting, still


Hallelujah, oh what a man

I would dive for

Licked lips shoulders lean

Thin skin tattoo left breast

And open, So very open
A jaw chiselled full of desire

So Full

I adore him


Toes bare in woods

He takes you places; You and I


Tell me what you love when you think I’m not listening


Shockvalue diminishes

Inside societal pressures

Full porters no one listening


( Except the songbirds )


Gentle and grazen

rareity in our overfed

Undernourished world


Step outside in your glory,

Twinkle toes the sun,

Salute the moon,

her crescent head

and two stars as partners

Wonders you ought delight in





Think of her in the tent in the mountains

Cold brimmed feeding torches

Students her wake

Angels escape

Fucking someone else complete

I like her nature though

Form seems gentle

I like her brazen

Heart seems scented


I like her i like her…
I like….
Life too short to scuttle dreams

Skirt edges

Hide senses


If you love her, tell her



art is the holy consciousness

Binds soulbirds together
You know this  by now…


Tell me what you love

when you think I’m not listening



I love you.

I do.


I do.

3 thoughts on “Tell me.”

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