Red Lights.

Red lights

This room breathes with me like no other has done before
the cheques square tiles on the floor
whos game is time
the stones awaken sleeping dreams
the air light
dances like poetry
wrapped in silver
underneath the column of stone
the sun goes round the window
blocks carved with majesty
a gift renewed
that lives at peace
a carpenter sings
with wood tonight
shadow puppets seek moon light butterflies
that peel away
from the beige rock walls
to lap in portals that grape the soil
leafs are everything
that ever spoke

Sail away from me
stuffing
David coxhad
Susan tiller
walking into the pit of a submarine
i am wrapped in cabbage leafs
where ladies with white feather neck rumples
hold babes clothed in red
boobs slip out of dress
breathe in the fith season
that is here
hanging on the walls
gateways of marble wash across the grain
like shapes cut out of paper
triangles, circles, squares
drifting onto a table
then blown by a straw