Crisscross in blue

yellow lines in the mist,


faces in mask
and soft paper smiles
zigzag in a dream


soundless,
yet so loud


prayerless
beneath the moon;
the sapphire woman is your friend
tonight


with the orange lipstick
and an accent,
she tells me you live down the lane


fluid lights, gliding,
a violent kiss on glass


we stop by for a word
in dream silence


your kiss tastes a bit too odd
this evening


your touch travels places
and crumbles into dust;
timeless


music invades your body
and crawls up your skin
like an orgasm


so can't poets be normal,
you ask me,
will songs ever heal
our child of snow?


your eyes, wet like a violin storm
fall back deep
in time


the moon sinks from your world
like a stolen radio signal,


walls and lost code


a strangle lane in smoke,
almost liquid
and winding


you said I never dream….