Running the rampant hands,
Tender-like scraping–
Dashing dance
Burning with cheek-heat.
Holding on to the bark
Of tree-limbs

Fractured scales
Tipping wanton
Groan to the sky
With rumbling eyelids

Off on a tangent
Standing in the forest
Behind the sounds of trees
Breathing slowly

Pass the dusk in night
Wander in dreams

In thee