You Used To (day 2063)

When you used to sing me songs
I was James Dean and you were love
And wind flowed through our hair
Past a highway sign that read: ‘see ya later’.

When you used to run your hand
Across the front summertime chest
I’d look you up and down
Until we’d both run all round.

When you called me that last time
I was a million miles away
There was static playing on every line
And my voice was in a tin can.

Now, when you come to my mind
You’ve still got those wild daises in your hand
Your smile is the size of the sun
Where we’ve both just begun.

Sewn With My Name (day 1285)

When you whisper my name a thousand miles away
A little fairy floats from you on to me
With a gift wrapped in satin, sewn with my name.

Moments keep building through conquest and torture,
With every gamble perching icicles upon our brows
That tickle and fancy and etch out our fate.

My deepened breath at the sight of your fairy
Keep me awake, for no thought should go wasted;
No lingering memory or heart pitter-patter missed.

Just like my serpent, I’m alive with no name,
All else flickers and slithers; lost into bane.
‘Goes here with my fairy, a thousand miles away.

Slow Low Whistle (day 989)

Mimic my every cry
As I let you whistle low
I’m ready for the hunger
I’m ready for the feast

Left alone at the crossroad
Pack all filled with air
A dollar too much down
Dusty register’s golden crown

Felt hard in my left
Checked the other one again
Heard my freight-train-a-coming
Lookin the other way now

Long road comin hard
Off to another day
Felt the executioners tail
Felt the grip to mother-me

Ramblin rose staring at me
My eyes gone, going back understood
Creeking sleep covering me
Lurching stops frightening me

My bag and me settling in
Easy train rumbling on
Lost my voice miles ago
Keeping my whistle down low

Collected Arrows (day 660)

I heard your voice today as it wrung out loud
Sparkling and shining across houndreds of miles
It’s not easy when some angels don’t fly
Long arrows and guided love notes fight perils
But even then days stretch out long
Placing delay at the tip of our tongues
Panic at times as we weave back and forth
Amongst little pillars and settled sailors;
Gamblers on the open world of fortune
Bottle in one hand, out the door with the other
Don’t cry, it wont come easy
[Don’t worry, your voice will be my guiding savior]
So pass love notes with rising vigor
And let the angels wisdom sweep over
Your eyes, your demeanor
Hour heart can rest here a while
With bundles of these collected arrows