the universe is
an endless mystery
but people are all made up
of blood, bones
sinew and regrets
maybe it’s my scorpio rising
or my sagittarius moon talking
but it all just feels like
any other mythology
filling our great and desperate desire
to ascribe some reason to being
still, I’ll let you
tell me what my birth chart says
if it means I can
trace the outline of your body
without using my hands
35
older now
but no guarantees
of growing any wiser
less garrulous, much colder now
with no respite on the horizon
burn my love letters for warmth
those words were soft and hollow
basking nude in the sunlight
gin-soaked sweat flowing from my brow
the vultures feast on me like carrion
licking my bones, until the flesh is gone
yet each bite makes me feel alive
never thought I’d get to 35
Pride is an Inferno
trace me,
follow the nicks and scars deep down to my roots.
tilled in poor soil with not nearly enough sunlight,
yet still I grew undeterred, unwavering.
branches outstretched far and wide like my mother arms,
there to either cradle or shade you (take your pick).
no tolerance left for inaction,
devoid of patience for justice.
trace me,
the same fire raging you see before you
has always burned hot beneath the surface,
always been a card carrying member of the “others” –
the weirdos/punks/queers/misfits.
call us what you will, but we’re leading the charge now.
buying homes and settling in your quaint little areas of town,
and that raging fire is never going out.
Currents
nothing drives you, faster, harder
than desire for the truth,
for some respite from the monotony of living.
breathe in/breathe out,
laid out on the altar,
all wrapped up in linen and adorned with spices.
caress my skin and feel my very cells flow through your fingertips,
fire in your kiss, yet sweet softness,
every second like water – devoured before it’s cherished.
Ode to New Orleans
Strolling down Bourbon Street, centuries of pain and beauty beneath our feet,
Dancing on the heels of the greats to a rhythm the city seems to make from out of nothing,
en Louisiane,
à La Nouvelle-Orléans,
We’re alive, like the jazz, and smoke, and black magic floating through the air,
we’re wild, we’re free.
I love you, I love you, je t’aime, je t’aime,
Down by the Bayou, drunk on Rue Dauphine, on St. Charles Street,
Tracing the footsteps of Degas,
of Hemingway, Capote, Williams,
Sweet city beneath the sea,
Hold steady, hold on tight.
revelries
break down, fever thoughts spilling out of you, try/fail, love/hate, rinse/repeat
she kisses like she knows you
your bodies all too close
her lips a strawberry paradise
ducks move past you
you’re floating in the river now
a half lit cigarette as you called him up the stairs
he tastes like dove and fresh regrets
but his hands fall in all the right places,
sins left all over the floor
sailing out to sea
skin glistening in the sunlight for the last time
the water devours you like a delicacy, slowly fills your lungs
break down, fever thoughts spilling out of you, try/succeed, love/unconditional, rinse/repeat
Hayden Winston 
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