Didn’t say – he didn’t say – why not?
couldn’t say – couldn’t stay –
had to get away – why? –
didn’t say
sinuous rills filled his brain, curves of shapes
and things of night, felt in the exploring,
not seen, strings of delight - plain sight
too lean - soft and warmed, exhaling,
inspiring in the caverns of dunes,
the leaving sounds of senses
tight, released, pleased, eased
silverine the light across the sea
as silence of the night beckoned – he
was not ready for such as that – maybe
never would be, never again,
with such new demons in his head
and a skull of old, black and tousled,
kicked again and again
off the sprout of spine
spinning like a charcoal ball
across the sand of ground
