Stitches

''And in the morning it rained.''

''...she was so beautifully out of contact.''

Blood red, her eyes latch on to you.

''tinged with repulsion, amounting almost to love.''

Though they never knew you moved, they knew you were there.

''Her limbs had a certain stillness.''

It's windy out there, isn't it?

And she knew that no one cared.

Witches

They danced a thousand songs

and they never did no wrong.

Dance with me, dear witches.

Burning through my soul.

Voices whisper gently..

He's craving for your breath

Voices whisper gently

It's you he will undress

And he whispers,

with a softened, golden glow

The witches, are tearing at my clothes.

Dancing with the witches.

Temporary blisters,

burrowed in your skin.

Careful, say the witches,

Time is wearing thin.

Tree Man

Aware of my presence,
Breath and feeling.

By my window he is a comfort to me
most nights and mornings,
He is still and silent.
Other times the wind stirs his movements and he moves with the flow,
sometimes violently,
other times subtle and soft.

He breathes, as I breathe
with the wind and the birds.

A vital presence in the remoteness of silence.