Endeavor

I ask for true days only
where under oceans of history my soul can be born.
I want to remember this world as it is to me, a hard and beautiful dance;

so few have made this cut. My destiny is set for the swirling stars
where all the things I am and have been come shining in my blood.

The reasons I've had to float my hands and tread the forests

of the spirits, the reasons and choices wrapped in rain and droplets of

mist. Even the stars now, even now they aren't sure where I'm going.

Under constellations, my face mirrored with galaxies and my ribcage full of
the songs of birds, my shadow puffs and changes like paper being filled with words.

Waiting for twilight's fevered fortune to arrive I sway below Venus and

bleed my soul to it's essential birth, through years of botched conceptions.