And in the flood
of our tears,
pouring out of
our windows,
into the streets to
meet the rivers
and into the ocean,
our dead children
and we shudder in their
trying to listen hard to the earth’s vibrations
to find some kind of humanity again.
Ive lost sight of it
in the midst of the blood
and misery.
The dark angel
came into my room,
winged death,
and I was not afraid.

Death was no stranger,
her beauty and wisdom
shimmers through the darkness,
and she tastes like honey,
between her legs
runs a tempest of
a storm that will eat you alive,
if you ask nicely,
venom and cinnamon,
and whispers
of the Mayan end times.

I lift my voice up to the sky ceiling,
for us,
my fellow heathened angels,
our eyes dark and blazing,
sparking prophets,
harlequin saints,
having laced fucks
with spirit sex and magic
in the deep night,
all hands
and mouths
open to the awakening
cuming inside
each other,
vision and visionary,
unite in wet dreams,
cock and cunt,
and lips, breath,
fading into moonlight,
sighing in reverie.

Damn it all,
it was in my head,
just a dream,
I woke up always alone,
in a blaze of
serpent and phoenix,
intertwined with my bones.
Good morning..