❀ Stephen Nelson
        
✾ Ask Tracey

        Chewing bark. Chewing leaves. Rinsing. Spitting. WORDS. Eyes have the proposition. Tongue 
        dripping salt water. At the counter you collect money lick stamps print receipts. Lavender in your 
        mouth. LONG. Watching you prop up push out your breasts contact heaven. This is inevitable but 
        rescues us from the hour. Fading. I help you choose family. You are fading. Petals sewn to eye patches. 

        Whenever I touched you who felt the shock but us.

                                                   ✽

        I'm telling you now you've been replaced by beasts boys nicotine patches. There is a black ring in the sky 
        since the world knows no better.


        
✾ Meditation on the Months

                Jesus knows January: black mud and leather boots in rain; violent thaws and sudden misfits 
        dragging in after celebration. He knew Galilee in white, fathers in delicate fig trees mourning.
                I'm asked to wait for the new month, the promise of passions and elevations! - an astral month 
        or poisons in a voice or song. So many names to gather, sparrows to thank or cage. So many hours 
        after the preparation of sleep.
                Given the qualities of September, when clean light fell on gardens, the change has the odour of silk, 
        feathered women wearing coloured dresses the same.
        
        
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