cake
Count the candles, feel the heat. That portion of excess bound to a paper plate. That diligence of wishes given way to smoke and sweetness. A tide of fire extinguished, smoke curling into a haze of fitful tradition. Such a measure, such a moment. Plastic forks lining the trash-can. Blue frosting smearing the sink.
It is the ritual we name, but the sweetness we...
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Count the candles, feel the heat. That portion of excess bound to a paper plate. That diligence of wishes given way to smoke and sweetness. A tide of fire extinguished, smoke curling into a haze of fitful tradition. Such a measure, such a moment. Plastic forks lining the trash-can. Blue frosting smearing the sink.
It is the ritual we name, but the sweetness we...
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brittle
We were translated from lost languages. We were written on brittle fire. The story just goes and goes. It is never clear what was said before the bets were settled. It is never certain just when that hammer fell. Our lives unwind from these strange entanglements. Our souls are only disappearing ink. The words all hiss and spark between.
There are strange engines at...
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We were translated from lost languages. We were written on brittle fire. The story just goes and goes. It is never clear what was said before the bets were settled. It is never certain just when that hammer fell. Our lives unwind from these strange entanglements. Our souls are only disappearing ink. The words all hiss and spark between.
There are strange engines at...
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porous
The sun won't stay, and I can't call it back. The night won't still, and I can't keep up. The smoke unfurled from distant fires, the speed of the tire multiplied outward from the hub, the spattered windshield cracked all of the sudden. From gravel in action to the plaintive note from a passing train, it all goes on and on. I steady myself...
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The sun won't stay, and I can't call it back. The night won't still, and I can't keep up. The smoke unfurled from distant fires, the speed of the tire multiplied outward from the hub, the spattered windshield cracked all of the sudden. From gravel in action to the plaintive note from a passing train, it all goes on and on. I steady myself...
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featherbed
The lullaby arrives at unseemly moments, amid the freeway glare at 75 miles per hour, as you wait in the parking lot feeling that hot wind seep through the open window. It sings along to the sound of tires dissolving against tarmac, it sings with the air conditioning rattle, with the hum of bass-swept glass. You long just to close your eyes and listen,...
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The lullaby arrives at unseemly moments, amid the freeway glare at 75 miles per hour, as you wait in the parking lot feeling that hot wind seep through the open window. It sings along to the sound of tires dissolving against tarmac, it sings with the air conditioning rattle, with the hum of bass-swept glass. You long just to close your eyes and listen,...
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distinction
Things manifest in their particulars, instants skinning maps and figures, all the exclusionary conditions coming along with the package. This is here, that is there, look at how far away we must search these similes. These strings of alibis, these reasons to cling and concur. It is emptiness that gathers, so much vacancy that brings it all rushing in. I can never get my...
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Things manifest in their particulars, instants skinning maps and figures, all the exclusionary conditions coming along with the package. This is here, that is there, look at how far away we must search these similes. These strings of alibis, these reasons to cling and concur. It is emptiness that gathers, so much vacancy that brings it all rushing in. I can never get my...
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venom:
im glad you got to see, and liked my set, thank you very much for leaving some positive feedback! <3
traveler
I would walk away only to scatter these ashes that cling to my feet, that mingle with the dust. I would bend my bearings only to find that all the stars have strayed. The fence line and the wind break, the phone poles and the broad horizon. All these sleepless windows, lit well into the night of this next day. All these lonesome notions,...
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I would walk away only to scatter these ashes that cling to my feet, that mingle with the dust. I would bend my bearings only to find that all the stars have strayed. The fence line and the wind break, the phone poles and the broad horizon. All these sleepless windows, lit well into the night of this next day. All these lonesome notions,...
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infatuation
All the words drown slowly, caught in the breadth of this reading, ash the only evidence left. You are a far tide, a rhythm of solemn resignation honoring the knowing that all the facts wear away. Such facts of heat and wax, blood languorous on bitten lips, every burning branch mere parlor tricks. You cough some small remission, a confession to your secret exultation...
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All the words drown slowly, caught in the breadth of this reading, ash the only evidence left. You are a far tide, a rhythm of solemn resignation honoring the knowing that all the facts wear away. Such facts of heat and wax, blood languorous on bitten lips, every burning branch mere parlor tricks. You cough some small remission, a confession to your secret exultation...
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the golden mean
Light bends, time crawls, the sky is held together with wires strung above the freeway, stretching past sight. Miles of metal creep and stall, creep and stall. Gaps open between vehicles, whole worlds gape and yawn. Another driver fills the difference. Diesel fumes and brake-lights abound. Traffic pauses because everyone only wishes to get ahead.
I am made of mistaken measures, of...
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Light bends, time crawls, the sky is held together with wires strung above the freeway, stretching past sight. Miles of metal creep and stall, creep and stall. Gaps open between vehicles, whole worlds gape and yawn. Another driver fills the difference. Diesel fumes and brake-lights abound. Traffic pauses because everyone only wishes to get ahead.
I am made of mistaken measures, of...
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porphyria:
Thank you for the positive comment on my set "SPF 5000" in member review, it was sweet of you, I appreciate it! <333
false idyll
There is a blue press to this scattered sky, a shine made of glass and water, a color straight from a box of crayons. There is a beauty that hangs heavy from every bough, wire, and head. Squirrels gnaw at remaindered walnuts, leaving jagged meat and husk. Shards that make the impression of constellations, dots and stars cut into bare flesh. A worm...
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There is a blue press to this scattered sky, a shine made of glass and water, a color straight from a box of crayons. There is a beauty that hangs heavy from every bough, wire, and head. Squirrels gnaw at remaindered walnuts, leaving jagged meat and husk. Shards that make the impression of constellations, dots and stars cut into bare flesh. A worm...
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hand made
The long line of coincidence lays in ashes, embers lingering like the stars. The mystery of a heart that empties is something always comes rushing in. The fold in the letter, the crease on the curb. That emblem of something missed laying strewn across the lawn. I scratch and scrape another new life. I idle in the shower, the river all around.
There...
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The long line of coincidence lays in ashes, embers lingering like the stars. The mystery of a heart that empties is something always comes rushing in. The fold in the letter, the crease on the curb. That emblem of something missed laying strewn across the lawn. I scratch and scrape another new life. I idle in the shower, the river all around.
There...
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double negative
There is some bend left in the bones, some press of cells left before there are splinters and tears. There is some sky left of the silty turns of flags and failings. The scratched lenses can not give away the center of the secrets. The dull tongue can not find a way to sing that bitter line so sweetly in the rumor laden...
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There is some bend left in the bones, some press of cells left before there are splinters and tears. There is some sky left of the silty turns of flags and failings. The scratched lenses can not give away the center of the secrets. The dull tongue can not find a way to sing that bitter line so sweetly in the rumor laden...
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minaret
What ease is there in the ache, seeing that remembered symbol, that bloom of what will be again. What comfort in the eyes finding that skyline, a darkness bereft of stars. That mumbled poetry, that certainty that poverty can only evoke. That sense of architecture always meant to be. Scratching after my beard, the absence the only bend left any pleasure. The nerves plugged...
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What ease is there in the ache, seeing that remembered symbol, that bloom of what will be again. What comfort in the eyes finding that skyline, a darkness bereft of stars. That mumbled poetry, that certainty that poverty can only evoke. That sense of architecture always meant to be. Scratching after my beard, the absence the only bend left any pleasure. The nerves plugged...
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