Charcoal

Feb. 11, 09

An addiction to sky and charming nicotine,
Smoke rising giving me something like hope,
Grey and burdened lace my dreams.

Retrieve the moon ink from the heaven's lake,
Take the reed's stems and heed the songs ablaze,
Stencil change within the placid grave,
Give life, a dew, from above Sun’s high day.

Tainted dust giving butterfly flight,
Swirls of outrageous orange and black,
Beckon the watcher’s eye.

Then burden the dye of the butterfly wings,
Give yellow eyes to the very edges of night’s rims,
Shade shadows in the soil’s depths of Hell’s rings,
And silhouette the moon’s crescent in dreams.

Do lay imaginary wings on my back,
Tattered ends with raindrops to encumber,
Destroying the magic in chipped snaps.

Draw in heaven and hell, weave life and death,
Paint sun and moon and man to their rest,
Beast rein onward to the moon’s ink bed,
Charcoal drawn world held smudges of tread.

My wings had cat eyes and lips,
Readily speaking, drinking, dosing for something,
Beckon for the dragon fly; give a kiss.

God Given