The Sun That Follows

Do you forget who you are?

Under an evil intention overflows your identity.

Your welfare is at the moon, with the wolf.

Natural love,

sun to rain,

Vanilla Skies.

A Poignant Rose, Houdini.

Seldom when the seed is softened by the river nectar,

a frame is found inside the stigma.

Houdini turned sideways, claustrophobic:

"Away where the clouds swallow white,

I will breathe, vastly inside a triangle.

Through the gentle sword,

pulled out of the skull

I will search for you,

through the fire

through the chains,

to find the mountains where

the clouds are suspended.

The birds chime

between native bells.

Clear water falls downways Lupe's

dark hair,

(a rainy night)

revealed to be

an outpour now staining

her folky

dress."

Impulsively I cried in happiness,

around the poignant soul of Houdini's prayer.

Across The Garden

Something else rather than a void,

if the crystalline heads south.

Some other roses in this garden,

Harlow, red-faced, about the clouds.

Beneath the dried leaves I
need to find the essence of the human.

Persuaded, beautiful, red and grey.

Agnes' Chandelier.

It is cruel, if you can breathe.

Red romance behind the fence.

At the border I yelled.

Strawberries,

throughout ever-blossoming autumn.