The Dancer, The Priestess

What say You to a mermaid in the Sea?

Her love is like Jocelyn’s Backwards Priest

One foot tip toe in front of the other

Let the Dancer meet Her Beast

You know that You can have Me

You know that You can’t have Me


Wise, tread into Her Peace

It is okay

Sleep on Me

Watch Her fly in Your dreams

For every reason She is not

Three reasons She must be


Keota Picou

I love the Complexities in life

But at times I wish the answers were easy.

Where are my answers that I’ve worked so hard for?

How much further must I walk to the results?

My salvation is not for them.

My salvation is not for the group.

Tearing myself up for the masses to digest.

That is what I do.

I am not a Savior.

I am a being.

A vessel.

And we are the lesson.
In My Tree,

Owl

Wet Wings

Wet wings are drying

Someone should learn this scene

Ready hearts

Steady chatter

Listen as the cicada sings


The wind refuse to blow

While the laughter quietly leaves

Eaten by the eyes of the people

Peeling away a spirit at the seams


Break apart as it breaks the box

Not one of these souls hold to dreams

They instead claw at hope

Resting their woes inside of Keys

Poem: Keota Picou