October

I’m always the most affectionate come fall.
Perhaps it’s the bite of the weather,
Perhaps it’s the memory.
It doesn’t matter.

The way in which the leaves break off,
seems to remind me of a phoenix
rising back up from the ashes.

Sometimes it just makes me
want to crawl up in
someone else’s
skin.

Burn for a
little
while.

BIATA

A Simple Truth

Everyone is their own kind
of monster,
and monsters always 
split in two. 

A yin and a yang. 

The bitter irony of it
is that
they usually never
find each other. 

Amongst all of the
institutionalized
chaos
ironing out
the 
individualism. 

We’ve got to remain
hopeful and only
to ourselves. 

That’s where your 
other half lies. 

The rest is just a 
burst of 
spontaneity

B.

The Moon

It feels so addicting when
the heat drifts down your spine,
soft fingers woven in your hair. 

A low gasp tears through a
hollow setting, the darkness
disguising 
every bruise, 
every inconsistency. 

If it’s done right it’s enough to 
send your senses ablaze,
all else
momentarily forgotten. 

But morning always comes, love,
and the moon doesn’t linger at
dawn. 

B.

Champagne 

Hmn, self control is usually
a virtue of mine, but with
lashes as dark as tonight,
when your touch is ablaze,
I’d rather drift my 
tongue across your fingertips 
part lips for danger or perhaps
taste the salt on your shoulder. 

Words of champagne. 
Sham
Pain.

Shame,
Shame,
Shame.
 

BIATA