cheyenne cooke Poems

Life falls, I fall and where will you be.
Warm skin, wolf grin and where will you be.
I fell onto the moon, soon turning my vision of you blue.
I fell onto the moon. Can I make it right. May I stand alone tonight.
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I love your voice, your soft black hair.
I love your eyes and love your stare.
I love your laugh, your cocky smirk, and your simple sense of humor.
You know I do, my dearest.
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In the black-eyed fever of the jagged night.
Spurned by the moon, stabbed by the light, too twisted to think.
Too raged to sleep, too far gone to mend myself.
In the dead silent vacuum that conceils me.
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My mind splits, my pulse shatters like broken glass.
Template faces spin in and out of view in suspended darkness.
Sexes easily shift into two dimensional lines and split.
Cosmapolitans chaos rotates, inside itself a twisted circus.
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