'Spectre'I yearn to be the spectre,the face you can't unsee.unseen.The touch that you crave,In your sweetest of dreams.You dark wanton fantasy,Just out of reach...The voice, the cry that beckons;Calling your soul to me.I long to be the ghostWho haunts you...Roaming the chambersOf your heart...Wandering your mind...Possessing      Your           Thoughts...


Brine blue and deep green hues,Swirling whirlpools.A river rages behind your eyes.Deeper than that a calm more wise.Your gaze like an overfull brook,I drown in you with a single look.Torrent and tide shield the truthsThat you hide.If I went under wouldI be torn asunder?Stream rising and swelling withNo way of telling...Does your soul meanderSlow and … Continue reading Brine.

Sins of the Locktender

Hands round her neck,like a heart-shaped locket,she carries the souls of the dearly departed. Scraps of charred picturesand stories unspoken,sins of the fathers in her breast pocket. Da Vincis lock burnedlike witches forgotten,Transgressions abound, along the Potomac. *I wrote this after learning my great grandfather was a true monster. He was also a locktender along … Continue reading Sins of the Locktender