Doors of perception,
Grey faced,
Deep in hands of thought,
Meditating in a labyrinth of time,
A widow of rivers.

Open,
Shining light,
Rooms with more doors.
Stones sleep,
But can not be slept on,
They do not notice the light,
a force of habit
flick the switch.

D
O
W
N
the hall to the r
.......................i
.......................g
.......................h
.......................t

Rice is burning,
Because the stones are sleeping.
Smoke makes no noise.
Steel and gas, neocampfires
Grey mounds of husk,
Thin to ash between two fingers,
wiped under eyes.
Tired.

There’s a knock at the front door.
Knock,
It’s winter,
Cold,
Hungry for warmth.
It accepts what is at hand,
Lingers.
Nobodies friend.

Doors of perception,
Grey faced,
Deep in hands of thought,
Meditating in a labyrinth of time,
A widow of rivers,
And Heart of stone.

Two souls chained,
Oceans deep.
Tides roar below an aquaplane.
Will this hand reach in time?

Eyes closed,

Skin shed,

Blood drained,

Heart stopped,

Mind quiet,

Bones dust,

Light and dark,

remain.

Grief opens the way
For her saintly love
to exist.

The sun,
deep in waters current,
to the end of mirrors knowing,
Past the beginning of the wind.
It is here that I wait,
for the horizon,

and uncertainty,

to meet,
and make love.

8.1 billion suns in the sky,
Rising,
Falling,
Shining,
Hiding.
They touch the edge of the world and make,
Purple,
Blue,
Yellow,
Orange.
Dressing our eyes for our minds to fall,
Silent
.
.
.
8.1 billion suns in the sky.
These two,
are for you,
and I.

"I dreamt of a silver city and the sun shone from the ground."
"I do not dream."
"Have you believed in anything that you have not seen?"
"I do not believe in God if that is what you mean."
"God is but the simplest of dreams."
"Have you never loved?"
"What do you know of love?"
"I know that you can not be satisfied by the smell a rose through a panel of glass."
"Is it still beautiful?"

Waking up,

woven together
In hearts tender blanket.
.
Warm,
A body,
Heavy on mine. 
.
I,
A sheet of fabric in your arms,
Melting into the gravity,
A dancer,
Surrendered.
.
You,
A sheet of fabric in my arms,
Melting into the gravity,
A dancer,
Surrendered.
.
Us,
A sheet of fabric in the wind,
Billowing against gravity,
Dancing,
Alive.
.
Made in the morning,
Thrashed about at night,
Made in the morning,
thrashed again at night.
.
I,
A quilt,
Tucked around your body,
Protecting,
Safe.
.
You,
A quilt,
Tucked around my body,
Nurturing,
Safe.
.
We,
Sleep in the beds of each others hearts,
Soothed by the rhythm,
Stilled by warmth,
Taken by temptations of forgetting time,
White washing hours,
We paint them,
Ours.
.
Goodnight,
and
Good morning,
.
Gentle eloquent whispers,
Bringing us to,
and from,
the night.