cold of the ocean
The stretch of day, the pause of darkness. The vetted prayers, the hollow heart. It doesn't matter, that dry click is always there. That fateful plunge into the rollicking tide. That razor whetted smooth and thin. All the worn through remembrances that always call, waiting for the wind to shift. Awaiting all the weight to break.
The eyes can not close,...
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The stretch of day, the pause of darkness. The vetted prayers, the hollow heart. It doesn't matter, that dry click is always there. That fateful plunge into the rollicking tide. That razor whetted smooth and thin. All the worn through remembrances that always call, waiting for the wind to shift. Awaiting all the weight to break.
The eyes can not close,...
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pin point
Still, there will be times when you will see me. Over burdened with blankets, anchored to the cat-scratch leanings of the night. Almost waking in anticipation or fright, I will linger there, smoke marking flesh. Every fire both warmth and warning. I am there like the sudden remembering you swore to never forget. Something always lingering just to leave.
We agree on the...
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Still, there will be times when you will see me. Over burdened with blankets, anchored to the cat-scratch leanings of the night. Almost waking in anticipation or fright, I will linger there, smoke marking flesh. Every fire both warmth and warning. I am there like the sudden remembering you swore to never forget. Something always lingering just to leave.
We agree on the...
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breath
Speech becomes the only remorse, a life given to pursuit of heat. The breath an easement to something best never mentioned. The dessert left in the rubble of earnest work, just the phrasing given to light and skin. A kiss in form left to fortune.
We are swept with innocence, forgetting the only eminence we allow. The breech is just abridgment, the punch-line tendered...
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Speech becomes the only remorse, a life given to pursuit of heat. The breath an easement to something best never mentioned. The dessert left in the rubble of earnest work, just the phrasing given to light and skin. A kiss in form left to fortune.
We are swept with innocence, forgetting the only eminence we allow. The breech is just abridgment, the punch-line tendered...
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you
There is a look tethered to a blush, a whispering of blood, a lingering of heat. Eyes fixed on the transience of skin, bright and unyielding. A gaze always falling into that remembered edge, that certain light that finds you, awake and aware. The night has settled to feast upon you, enraptured in clinging dreams, alight and alive. So you shine.
It is the...
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There is a look tethered to a blush, a whispering of blood, a lingering of heat. Eyes fixed on the transience of skin, bright and unyielding. A gaze always falling into that remembered edge, that certain light that finds you, awake and aware. The night has settled to feast upon you, enraptured in clinging dreams, alight and alive. So you shine.
It is the...
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a blue million miles
The sky goes blind from so much light, that drive home heading straight into the burning west. The color of eyes that wept once after you, the color of vision lit from with-in. It takes on the shape of things yet to be seen. That shape that tomorrow holds, somewhere beneath its seething tides. That shape of dread or longing, the...
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The sky goes blind from so much light, that drive home heading straight into the burning west. The color of eyes that wept once after you, the color of vision lit from with-in. It takes on the shape of things yet to be seen. That shape that tomorrow holds, somewhere beneath its seething tides. That shape of dread or longing, the...
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some memory hanging
It is like trying to tell which birds are flying above when they fly so high that they are barely visible. That resolution of focus, that strain against physical limits, that wonder that leaves one watching so closely these autumn skies. I feel my way forward only to find out I have been here before. I find my new path only to...
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It is like trying to tell which birds are flying above when they fly so high that they are barely visible. That resolution of focus, that strain against physical limits, that wonder that leaves one watching so closely these autumn skies. I feel my way forward only to find out I have been here before. I find my new path only to...
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crown of ages
There is a calm in the tension before the reach, that first birth of touch lighting the mind. That strange rise of foam when the sea is lathered by the wind. The storm bringing clarity by blurring every detail with ablution. So much for seeing, when the song is thick in the air. The music sliding between the seams, the song sweet...
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There is a calm in the tension before the reach, that first birth of touch lighting the mind. That strange rise of foam when the sea is lathered by the wind. The storm bringing clarity by blurring every detail with ablution. So much for seeing, when the song is thick in the air. The music sliding between the seams, the song sweet...
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forced perspective
It isn't that I lost track of time, the clock still buried somewhere in the sand, something always burning bright. Time just left me, sitting there, staring into the street. Night snug and sleepless, tucked in every corner tight. The smoke curling away, that lasting legacy. Lonely hazel eyes, a look of hungry intent, an air of unsettling recklessness. Those, and a name...
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It isn't that I lost track of time, the clock still buried somewhere in the sand, something always burning bright. Time just left me, sitting there, staring into the street. Night snug and sleepless, tucked in every corner tight. The smoke curling away, that lasting legacy. Lonely hazel eyes, a look of hungry intent, an air of unsettling recklessness. Those, and a name...
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last light
The shadows creep straight up the tree, without motion or effort. They ease up, driving the light higher and higher, until there is only the sky left for the fleeting missions of light. The sky enfolding its flocks and glimmers, hosting smoke, carrying clouds. I face east, tracing the lines and the textures that dissolve into the dusk. The moon is askew above...
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The shadows creep straight up the tree, without motion or effort. They ease up, driving the light higher and higher, until there is only the sky left for the fleeting missions of light. The sky enfolding its flocks and glimmers, hosting smoke, carrying clouds. I face east, tracing the lines and the textures that dissolve into the dusk. The moon is askew above...
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sky writing
The raptor rides the updrafts, holding court high above the hills. Clouds crowd the horizon, like a promise or a threat. Crows are drifting towards their roosts. Everyone has somewhere better to be. Everyone has to say their part. It is a busy picture, if anyone is left to count.
My vision is bordered by windowsills and dashboards. My vision is cropped by...
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The raptor rides the updrafts, holding court high above the hills. Clouds crowd the horizon, like a promise or a threat. Crows are drifting towards their roosts. Everyone has somewhere better to be. Everyone has to say their part. It is a busy picture, if anyone is left to count.
My vision is bordered by windowsills and dashboards. My vision is cropped by...
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smoke and errors
There is a rigor to your absence, a certainty to this abdication of phrase and trend. The rain falls, soft and suggestive. The rain falls, one wish at least come true. The roads lose their tension and the traffic its mind. The mist settles on the windshield, and I think of your fingers drifting away. The wiper blades scratch out that scatter...
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There is a rigor to your absence, a certainty to this abdication of phrase and trend. The rain falls, soft and suggestive. The rain falls, one wish at least come true. The roads lose their tension and the traffic its mind. The mist settles on the windshield, and I think of your fingers drifting away. The wiper blades scratch out that scatter...
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murder ballads
Things happen. Conflicts arise, and inevitably go too far. Blood is so often available to pool and flow. I am not too proud to admit I was wrong. It was most likely the mistakes that took us, me thinking you were someone you weren't, you thinking I was someone worth knowing at all. The beginnings are still up for debate, but the ending...
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Things happen. Conflicts arise, and inevitably go too far. Blood is so often available to pool and flow. I am not too proud to admit I was wrong. It was most likely the mistakes that took us, me thinking you were someone you weren't, you thinking I was someone worth knowing at all. The beginnings are still up for debate, but the ending...
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