Friday, June 12, 2009

sun tattoo

survival sighs into the
base chakra spinning
above the third rail,

feels itself trying
to jump start
a life...

(in spite of wet tracks)

sparks and sputters,
now slowing again,
the secret clock geometry

cogs in a soul that won't quite mesh,
weather worn fence slats stitching
the hem of ocean and sand

lifted and poised,
in arabesque dna
twin runners, twisted rusty wire
suspended yet animated
by wind and breath,

shadow figure trophies
blowing across the horizon of hope

revealing a red sun,
passionate orb come
to waken corpse cocoons

beams of light pry them loose

roots of fruited trees
and ripening thoughts
of new direction,

up words...

blood blooms
from the selkie skin,
tattooing the sun into my pelt,

a spinal column lease to close a gap
between kissing on dirty knees

no longer begging for a love so half-hearted or remote.

6.12.09 © acn