Poem -

A balm for dry skin

....

A balm for dry skin

Almost infused. Oil nearly fragrant. Dark colored glass to fight against the destructive force of some spectrum of light. A balm. A tiger. An eye sore from the sights of the city. Stale breezes blow through the arcade. Open air cafe? I welcome the change of pace. I'll have a seat. Spring water and herbal tea. I had to take time to make time. Jewel thief. That's me. Counting flowers on the wall. As watches wilt and then dissolve. Cog and gear Magog McGraw. Straw hats and golden thrones. Bare feet walking miles alone. Gotta get Mr Davis home. Trumpets blown. Midnight flags flying in spite of moans. Create in me a new heart. Tin man. I wonder where I should sign my zeal. Sealed. Delivered. No plates like home. Base sweep. Cleaned up nice and neat for the next runner's feat. Tour the force growing strong in me. Luke. I Am. Your Father. Why do I even bother. Some mothers reject their daughters. A reason to heat the waters. Clean rags and sterile hands to welcome new birth. A terrible cry that makes midwives smile and breath sighs of relief. Wash your face and brush your teeth. Pretty girl for the world to pick apart. Hate soft. Love hard. Never question where finishing starts. Make war an art. Priceless works. Scorn camouflaged. Beauty in the I of captivity. Behold? No old soul. Be whole. Be whole'd. Be who led the leaders. Rewrite the reader? Leave the archetypes face untouched? I cannot afford such. Leaving much to be desired. Giving thought to angelic choirs. Were our voices not inspired? Could our songs not make material move higher? Feet of clay are like straw houses. Mud and fire. Casting lots of deeds. Karma chameleon. Scales that breath. Inhale a measure and exhale a deed. Death is the balance and ever it seeds. Waking life to acknowledge that it is Omni indeed. Collecting my cons inching away from my needs. Prose in the throws of poetic prestige. I don't like train wrecks. But the graffiti is sweet. A forbidden canvas on wheels of forged steel. A crime. An art that takes time. A heart like mine. Giving the time to a stranger seated in an open air cafe. Holding tightly to the hand of her lover she is quickly drawn away. Off to the arcade. Her fragrance lingers. In mind it shall stay. An oil infused. A balm for dry skin.