#tbsunday

XVIII. Living Dead

I.

that summer the reservoir receded baring her skin of stones and weeds underneath

the humid breeze pulled resinous pine tree air through the grey hover —

there won’t be rain.

have mercy

II.

pull the shirt over my head summer bruises & freckles

the marine layer seeps & curls salty speckles clinging the air —

heart sounds like waves beating a far-off shore.

if you mean no harm                                 XIX. Take me As you Please

burns away the cold

the October sun yawns gold through coastal brushes and oaks before slamming bloody orange over royal blue waters and black cliff arches

green flash chasers: bound to the 1 until Big Sur

much later the thick forest night absorbs the car without hesitation.

you arrive with the trees, stand with the quiet, while the fire eats away at the logs in an encrypted pattern. i think it’s high time for a hike to who knows where.

i didn’t know i was waiting up, but when you stepped by my side into the darkness

for just a moment i could have sworn it felt right.                                XX. …Slowdance on the Inside

check every knot and strand for frays careful now

careful as ever beware!—this one will taste a bit reckless.

smell ozone lingering the grey hover, waiting for lightning,

gamble or play the odds, this bleeds like betting it all.

watch me try my singed best to save the rest, what’s left