The Mistress of Life

lips will run in stutters of

grab and glide across the surface

of life and I will look deep within

the lens of tomorrow as I enter

slowly into the moment. then time

will wince and exhale and move

with tenderness when I dare to take the

hints it gives, changing look and temperature

as it wails for attention, beckoning tastes

of histories musk to the heights of possibility

along this path of existence leading to

caverns unescapable. and spill my essence

along the tunnel of life with vigor and rage

and strength to leave imprints of relief that

suggest a lover walked on dirt