Tanka IICrimson blood dripping,Falling away with his pride.He feels only hate,While she radiates love, butNot for him. For another.
Tanka II used to spend myTime thinking of the sunriseAnd what it would bring. Now I think of the settingSun and what it takes with it.
Close To HolyI found God in the curve of her back. I saw the words of the gospel printedOn the backs of her knees and heardThe songs and prayers of believersRattling in her lungs as she breathed.The promises of the messiah rested On the tip of her twisting tongue and Lines from the psalms were etchedIn the stark white of her ribs. She had the voices of angels echoingIn the labyrinth of her veins.The oaths of disciples were reflectedIn the gray depths of her pupils. She was the closest thing to holy I've ever seen.