Cistern

Cut glass distorts your eyes and my seeing. We continue on, as if the cistern hadn't been rotated and filled with ice. We practiced — okay and fine; two amateur ping pong players in a polite warmup.

B.F.M.

Anxiety 2

Floating on a tide that ignores moon and sun, who’s true masters are relentless pictographs – a historical fiction writer and an one eyed seer in a meat locker with a cracked crystal ball – my cooled breath quickens as I watch shark fins circle my predilections for thunder and lightning. 

B.F.M.

Aokigahara

Awakening doesn’t mean 

a lifetime of day lilies,

sometimes it’s an unbearable 

dense forest. Where 

pine limbs jerk under duress.

Heavily fruited bodies 

swing 

twist

swirl 

toiling to liberate 

bedeviled shadows

who’ve seen behind

the veil.

B.F.M.