Honey Spoon a Poem by Jeremy Matthews

A honey pointed spoon buries me in sand, too many beginnings in a celestial bout of time over and under from shore caught in the tangled web we weave. Why do dead flowers sing at the gap in the doorway. Grace under fire my candle has a wick at both ends I know I can burn both I just have to hold it in the middle. I have a naive egotism in the tail of mine eye for I sprout these thoughts alone. Notice in flight at the door, a spider webs dead flowers inside a circle spinning the color wheel while on the end of time in tangled web pen point honey-suckled frozen pith bespeaking arrow apple-seeds  in drops of light, wings of peach flapping in a crevice shore in and out, the arrow honey spoon points a lion for a honey spoon mounds its glory. The fates are twisting and turning in my window frame, hither and thither  watch her slither my third body meets me twice in embers of truth sprouting my thoughts in a furrow of delight, honeycombed beach daring to reach me. No slope not followed by honey dripping narrow split. Pick myself up, shake myself off, do it all over again, we're talking serpents in the wishing well. Fire under earth with miles of endless beginning as the fates are still twisting and turning in my window frame for a honey pointed spoon to the heart.