My inner inhibitions
new age demands new sense.
from flesh of old
grows tender leaves of Valentine
from idle hands where opposites attract.
I have seen my shadow\'s worth
pass beyond belief,
beyond the rag-and-bone, the bitten limbs
of time five miles accross my habitat.
no monument shall come from all of this;
this merry wood of winter,
as cold as all who touch Piccasso\'s skin.
there is ice upon this land where creeps the fall.
half-dead each bone now cast upon the sea,
plays mischief while the Weeping Woman sleeps.
come stand beside the hour of her need.
sunflower seed no longer breathes
a silence one less man can understand.
I am puzzled, I confess.
where hides the eyes that stalk my every move?
my inner inhibitions,
no letting go; all flowers rust;
I am not yours yet. my photograph; my fiend!;