Flower of Sun

Wrinkles (refurbished)

In the wrinkles of your hands
I see not age but beauty,
a story whole
whose ebbs and flows bring tears
For I know it must end
before I am ready to let
go

muse (my last 30.30)

its been a rumor lately
she fall in love too easy
heard it in tree breezes
that sirens wailed and he got her
chain handcuffed her up
and took her way

heard he built decoys of buildings
so no one would know her prison
made a moat so no birdman could watch her
water so cold it would free her soul
if she took the swim

heard that she fell in love with him
one day
almost by accident
he’d been sitting under a tree
a writer without words with
fingers not bound to catch his dreams
visions with runny colors
she took pity on him
sat with him for a while
gave him enough gift
to explore his thoughts

rumored that she found beauty there
in the nights she touched him
stayed with him a little too long
and he loved back
tricked into thinking the talent was his
he figured out her game
found that she flittered to other lovers
offering up her gifts
while he slept,
or pretended

he tried to be without her
spent days torturing himself endlessly
while trying to forget her touch
preoccupied himself with other gods
but he had already tasted the pomegranate juice
between her thighs
and heard her moans at night
that gave him words for days
letting him write plays and sonnets
he thought only realizable in dreams
that had always ended too quickly

he would have sold his soul for her
so he did
he’d been chasing black butterflies
for a while now
trying to clip their wings
trading in sanity for a captive
that was faster than rivers
with promiscuity only the twinkles
of stars could gossip of

he sucked her up
through ozone clouds
with big giant straw
and now
she been locked in
imagined alcatrazes for too long
with writers loosing their words
and musicians forgetting their songs
its been a lot of sad days
since he took her
away

so now
there are hints of her
when
tree breezes say
she fell in love too easy
and problem happened
when one of them realized
he could fall in love back

doubled

they’ve littered a canvas of tan
since as long as I can remember
become hard edged paint splatters
that remained of an aftermath of conflict
photographs from
an accident

but
I’ve always taken to counting them out
passing them off as freckles
for a while I’ve had my numbers concrete

because they can touch
late one night
he said they counted as one
and I’ve been reevaluating my truth
ever since

I guess
my body is up to interpretation
I suppose
its always been

Hola

Hello breakfasters,

I just wanted to say that this whole project that we have going is amazing. I am in Mexico right now, which makes things difficult to both read and post but I hope to every once in a while to get online and see what everyone has been thinking, seeing and feeling. I really do miss you all, even if I only got to know you through your words or images. I hope everyone’s summer is going well, take care and enjoy these last weeks. I cannot wait to see you all in January.

Con cariño,
Coffee

Mood swing

Natural divide

La costa

No puedo soportar tantas lágrimas,
mi casa como un océano en luto.
Entro y las nubes cubren la cara de mi mama
tormentas surgen en la voz temblorosa de mi abuela…
Poco a poco los hombres se van al mar
desapareciendo entra las olas…
Sin barcos
suben y bajan…
Se los lleva el corriente.
El tiempo siempre se une con la muerte.
Sabemos que algún día
el viento soplará
acercándonos a la misma costa
y el corriente nos llevará…
Pero por ahora el viento llama a los hombres
sus sombras
dejando huellas en nuestra memoria…

Still whole

What more can I say?