Chanel is in the bed, half asleep.

"Oh Darlin' It's your full moon tonight," she says, to me.

I get up from beneath my blankets, "oh, I better finish writing my poem, then." I sit and type, and stare into the void of space, and feel and think and taste and cry.

but then she tosses, and from her stuper says: "will you get inside my brain and write one for me, too?" 
so this one is for her...


I looked
so deeply
into you
like a whitewashed fence
in summer sunlight
you glowed
too bright for my eyes
a nakedness
nearly too
glaring
twinkling
shimmering
shivering
a white cold light
it turned
shone upon a black wall
is it fair and silver beaming,
I can't tell now
the eyes of my heart only hurt
exhausted, scarred and scratched
they used to see all form and focus shape
so trusting
but now i ask
if they ever even escaped
the shadows at all
were we ever even outside
on a boat speeding through
the windy waters
feeling splashes on our face
of freedom thrills, leading onward
perhaps the gutter held us all this time
we both wanted the sea
in this our sinus touched
but now the fence is dark
and grey
and projects a dimming shade
upon downcast conscience
eyes wondering how
a blinding light
could turn to such a
dusky haunted ache