Episode 74 – Where the Wild Things Are

Lost in body,
love’s chains tie us down.

Lost in flesh, 
bone-chilling frosts blanket the world.

Lost in desire,
sins are strangled, begging for one more breath.

Lost in love,
crawling on our bellies, we claw our way to the light.

Episode 73 – Superstar

Man is no more than 
shadows 
upon the surface,

washed away 
with the slightest 
tilt of Earth,

false prophets 
flashing by
one by one 

by one.
Without danger,
Man becomes

just man,
weak,
frightened,

dangling from the edge.
His power reverts 
to pimples 

and insecurities,
leaving emptiness
for all those who 

loved Him.
No prince to the rescue.
Only shadows.

Episode 71 – This Year’s Girl

          Bleeding,
on sheets 
so clean
I smell the rain.

          Barefoot,
at the picnic
even the serpent 
is happy to see me.

          Beckoned 
by your smile,
flowers spill
across my skirt.

          Buoyed 
by your memory,
I float 
upon the surface.

Episode 70 – Goodbye Iowa

I am pieces
of many things –
metal
and heat,
flesh
and dandelions,
a potion of breath
and diversity.

In grief I swelter,
sorting through lies,
confusing evil with disguise.
Parental love
imprisons, protects.
I am released
only in death,
holding tight to the silk
from your hair.

My only truth.

Episode 68 – A New Man

Late night friendship
undefined,
wind blown,
hands entwined.

Cast a spell,
start out slow.
Altered reflection,
secrets explode.

Delicate magic,
soft eyes closed.
Red petals plucked
from a single rose.

Episode 67 – Doomed

Man is made of blood, a child merely bones.
If the earth shakes beneath us, do we feel less alone?

Doomed is our connection, tired of fighting in the dark.
Protect my heart from bleeding, always falling apart.

Though on fire when I’m with you, I must send you away,
throw myself upon your sword.  Love hurts, as they say.

My coat, it is the color of my oft broken heart,
bleeding secrets between us, always falling apart.

Episode 66 – Hush

Shadows
in the clock tower,
frightened girls
who cannot scream.
Without voice,
intimacy becomes language.
Hideous
is the face of silence.
One noise,
a volcano
in the quiet of a mind.
The clock strikes one
and steals our hearts,
cutting them
from the chest
with knives so sharp
that, though we die,
the pain remains.
Only a song
can save us.

Episode 65 – Something Blue

If hate could kiss,
would it be beautiful?

If love would last,
could it be kind?

*    *   *

Scent of past love lingers,
clinging like lace against my skin,
tattoos of pain no one can see,

intimate like a friend, like a torturer,
intimate like a friend, like a kidnapper,
intimate like a friend, like an executioner.

The scent of love lingers.