Short Breeched Poems

I breeched her black lace dream
                  as she nibbled the edges off the knight
        she spun a silver prayer wheel with red lipstick sighs
                 at sunrise we shared a pot of black silence...

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Sanctuary breeched
Stole cube of ice you hold dear
Grasping your power

Season weakens you
Seething and stabbing my palm
Fighting against clutch

Ceded power now
Few months away, cold revenge 
encasing my world


*** These days we hold Ice dear, then winter comes and it's despised.

Adam Hapworth...

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Amidst the rushed ripples of life.
Something brushed darkness deep into his eyes.
Weeping violets, gentle blacks, wondrous blues.
A couple of almost stars danced like midnight dew.

yet...

Petals of light breeched the heavy pound of night.
Sparred with the sable sirens of doubt and death.
Struck them brutal- honest in their icy stares.
The rouge of battle lay heavy upon the morning air....

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She's collecting tattoos at a rapid pace.
How many is to many, it's hard to say.
Sometimes I think they're just a distant sign.
From a clouded spirit, a distant cry.
Pigmented therapy for long lost lullaby?

Maybe that line of sanity is breeched. 
When the ink spills onto the hands and face.
The two things that separate man from beast.

The last things we flash to the world. 
Before the lid snaps shut on our masterpiece...

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