POEM: A MATTER OF STREAKING

Words pass on
Like wind on the teeth
Of a skeletal dream
That never left sleep

The lever slipped down
Lowering the crown
Less potent than fables
Of a vacant town

You say my story
Drowns in the truth
Soaking in reality
And you have the proof

Your way isn't mine
I prefer grit
It graces my soul
I'd rather not omit

Then when the gust
Enters my mouth
I define my dynamic
And my kingdom abounds

The time you toss
comes back with a crack
an icy frost
from a lack of friction

The time you caress
is more and stores
a glow to dim
contradiction

The adventure is yours
and who you are
becomes a matter of
streaking

But I'd rather say
knowing who you are matters
or giving space
to come to being

Is the bulls-eye center
the mage and mentor
of your bell boned
inner meaning

And the day stage
flips a lidded page
as newness wets
the evening