For-Like-Ever

A green light across the bay blinks,
or is it my eyelids trying to clear the dust?
“A good egg is hard to find”
so says the man who stands on the corner all day
with his flute and his dog.

Brown stripes over purple blue black
shoulders plump with youth
ripe with fear.

Brown stripes on red hot green roads
overdue or undercooked
aching to explode.

Brown stripes caught in the ears of a child
pounding with visions
of a birth gone bad.

Lucky girl,
born breathless in a garden
fingers wrinkled pruning a rosebush.
Heavy air spreads her tears
as a red rug grows wings.
Flying away too soon,
she knows better than to stay
and wither away -
close your eyes lucky girl,
sleep tight.

Sometimes when a cool moon breeze talks
I listen without hearing.
Gold nuggets
carved fresh from virgin soil
mimic the tides and open my veins,
smelling of bones barely staying afloat.
Sometimes when a cool moon breeze whispers
I sleep without dreaming,
unafraid to drown.

Emptiness closes in as eyes beg to sleep
through nightmares of nothing -
only colors, touches, smells
everything I miss about you.
I clear my throat of a scream
vivid with sex,
as if I’m living you all over again.
Wait, you selfish son of a bitch
until morning comes
and the darkness ends.