jayivan

wind-wrapped
sands sting skin

sea-scented
and sun heavy

until waves wash over

a dissolute life:
necessary living since
endless, life dissolves

the gush
such a crush

in the green muck
the luck womb struck

power
a-coward

Falling trees in forests
by hands calloused and sweaty,
full of fury—

No need to stand up
when I’m already standing
on the shifting sands.

the silent witness
among the holy rollers
: godless but good

I am a body,
not a voice. Just one among
a one to become.

Hiding could be art,
but instead, it’s thievery
of intangibles.

The flowers have dropped
and spring rots in the bark mulch
with last month’s rain.

I am not dreamless
even if you can’t see them;
maybe it’s your eyes.

The skin grafts won’t take;
my burned skin keeps pushing up
blisters like daisies.

I sit in gardens
aflower on cloudy days
but it doesn’t help.

Dreams drowned out by noise:
a sine wave reverberates
neurons until collapse.

I died a little
without even noticing
yesterday, again.

Lay beneath the redbuds, overflowered and starting to leaf;
Breathe in the long shadows fingering your feet;
Gaze up high;
Exhale a torquoise sky;
Spirit in me, you are a lie.