Alchemy in Breath

Please let me hide

with you,

glorious ghost,

in the blanket dark,

under the closet door space,

between the pages

of the ancient

dust-covered words

withering on their parchments,

creating spiced sparkling odes,

mixing memory and mayhem,

intertwining with

the sunlight,

ruffling book jackets

and whispers of dragons

found within the ink.

And I ran across then,

a song so sweet

and goddamn fierce

that it swept me

back

to younger lifetimes,

my dad and I

walking early in the morning

on school days,

dips into the cool fog,

waltzing atop

mountain peaks

in silence

because grounding

doesn’t always

need talking,

hush now,

and just listen

to your own

fucking air,

bellowing out of you,

blocking out all else

but your noisy lungs,

settling back into your bones,

owning your space,

taking it back

with raging fire

if you must,

become,

be here,

making alchemy

with your breath.

Untitled

I can tell I unnerve you,
like so many ghosts
before you,
who cackle at the rain
and always crave
habitual summer sweatings
and hiking up of skirts
in sandboxes
with the mud
sloshing round our ankles,
cursing the skies
that birthed us
down to earth
from our origin star-scapes,
heaving fire as we fell
to the earth
with a crunch of
bones on asphalt
in the middle of a
busy intersection,
though it did not matter
because no humans
were looking upward
to the moon anymore
in these times of the
Great Machines,
so our descent
went unnoticed
by the masses
and we kinda liked it that way.