Darius Ajai Frasure

catching the wind

an open mind

gets dusty

that’s what the books say

through jagged teeth

tossed on the floor

in no particular order

leaves fall from

branches dried stiff

the tree of knowledge

rootless ruthless

meditation makes men

mirrors of dust and ash

lead stained footprints

mark each page

leaving impressions

of blood-colored mud

experience and intellect

by-product of seeking

but never attaining

the light

the cost of sanity

her mind is a house of cards

built fragile 

because connection costs

and she is paper-thin

—

too shallow to pass-through

wading in the winds of change

like a grocery bag in a store parking lot

kicked along tumbleweed

forced to feed on what she cannot see

—

bowing to need

and want

and empty

the cup never filling

but ecstasy overflowing

love’s overgrown cliche

tormented skeleton 

shadow of intimacy

like angels wings 

clipped and bleeding

—

I could never

bring myself to

realize this truth

—

human experience reduced to sweating 

subsurface dwelling 

silk skin strapped muscle 

laced nervous system 

harboring phantasm

—

my body aches for more than identity

a cosmic split of atom and Adam

—

fruit-induced double-conscious

good and evil

—

Jekyll and jasmine-scented Jezebel

consciousness deceives births betrayal-leaves 

taste of flesh cold and stale

—

I bit into her  and lost all feeling of me

and hope of being

—

and the lies I tell myself are barbed wire fencing 

enveloping this asylum of guilt and fear

—

so I soak my wooden liver in alcohol and hope 

this fire will purify my gut from seared mind

—

release the smoked stain of her from my nostrils

flared flowing satin 

—

sanity is miles per inch of silence