july (first cut)

tiles hold the sun. skin absorbs the heat. there are patterns in the floors but only the colors make any sense to me. i cannot feel a pattern. i can only hear the music in the colors. i only feel the sun inside my feet. i am july. on my hands and knees. i am not enough without the sun. on my belly. laughing into the pores of earth.

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last drop

I would question the sun’s motives were he situated different, in closer proximity to the earth. If I got close enough for the interview, I would get all the answers I need. My pen would melt before I got a word down. Awakened by brilliant light, see me run toward the darkness at dawn.

You would be waiting for me at the plateau, I know, the last drop of water on the edge of our collective sanity machine.

faith

all i wanted was nothing i needed
when wanting
my need
superceded

i was told life is work
i was taught to work hard

i never knew faith

i thought
to control

even the sun
had to learn
without spin
the earth burn

even the sun
cannot control
all it made
all it touched
verdant spring
so inspired

even the sun
needs some faith
every night
to surrender
every night
we remember

every life
owes a debt
toward the sun

every morning
when the light comes
every life
looks up

to credit
the sun
its creation

far away
from me now

may my blood
sweat and tears
be the same
so my needs
my want
supercedes

without it
the darkness
eternally
leads