red star
The light slowly escapes, sticking to the skins of pale things, saying good-bye to the world. We chill to the dry exaltations of our skins, all existence cauterized by the cold, the profound slowing of the seasons. Winter is coming, crawling down the branches. Winter is coming, trickling from the stars.
I hang my head, idly watching the pavement. The litter of leaf,...
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The light slowly escapes, sticking to the skins of pale things, saying good-bye to the world. We chill to the dry exaltations of our skins, all existence cauterized by the cold, the profound slowing of the seasons. Winter is coming, crawling down the branches. Winter is coming, trickling from the stars.
I hang my head, idly watching the pavement. The litter of leaf,...
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anthem
They stitch the meanings together after everything is torn to ribbons. Red for blood, white for death, and that resignation to all that sunken blue. The stars scattered in orderly rows, sharpened in every sense. We love and die and strive towards purpose, in these fecund lyrics that bond us to our world. We hold fast to the certainty that all this clumsy singing...
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They stitch the meanings together after everything is torn to ribbons. Red for blood, white for death, and that resignation to all that sunken blue. The stars scattered in orderly rows, sharpened in every sense. We love and die and strive towards purpose, in these fecund lyrics that bond us to our world. We hold fast to the certainty that all this clumsy singing...
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effigy
The veil hides it away until the air is all but gone. These sweet syllables the only fuel ever to find this escape, the dark ocean and the drawled fishing net. The harmless drowning that dreams allow us, sound slipping away as the voice drifts into memory. A tilt of the tongue, a sweeping release of teeth. Such a smile loving mimicry of a...
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The veil hides it away until the air is all but gone. These sweet syllables the only fuel ever to find this escape, the dark ocean and the drawled fishing net. The harmless drowning that dreams allow us, sound slipping away as the voice drifts into memory. A tilt of the tongue, a sweeping release of teeth. Such a smile loving mimicry of a...
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repeat
All my life, this is the broken record of it. The rainbow cut to scraps, the tired drive into another bright good bye of a horizon. The dull plodding litany of curse and kiss, the enumeration of this wrecked alphabet. Love's embers as they dwindle, luck's mercy in hits and misses. The fretting and the fury, and the thousand quiet failures that dot and...
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All my life, this is the broken record of it. The rainbow cut to scraps, the tired drive into another bright good bye of a horizon. The dull plodding litany of curse and kiss, the enumeration of this wrecked alphabet. Love's embers as they dwindle, luck's mercy in hits and misses. The fretting and the fury, and the thousand quiet failures that dot and...
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one little song
It was like hellfire painted in cold orange juice hues, drizzling down the back of my throat. It was like that griddle black iron hiss that is only fire finding flesh, the scent of burnt blood so sweetly near your breath. Those artless feelings that can only be told as heat. That last sacramental miracle, the body turned to meat. The way...
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It was like hellfire painted in cold orange juice hues, drizzling down the back of my throat. It was like that griddle black iron hiss that is only fire finding flesh, the scent of burnt blood so sweetly near your breath. Those artless feelings that can only be told as heat. That last sacramental miracle, the body turned to meat. The way...
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conjure
It is a season laden with tinsel, built on colored lights and expectation. The day turns darker, from unduly bright to uncommonly gray in the time it takes to frame a thought or buy an alibi. I rise from the mud and detritus, my work lingering a little in the dirt this morning, staggered and feeling the shifting of worlds. My feet find their...
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It is a season laden with tinsel, built on colored lights and expectation. The day turns darker, from unduly bright to uncommonly gray in the time it takes to frame a thought or buy an alibi. I rise from the mud and detritus, my work lingering a little in the dirt this morning, staggered and feeling the shifting of worlds. My feet find their...
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bellebane:
" I settle into the fuzz of other places, the soft hum of electric imitation"...
<3
<3
that magic thought
It is at that moment, when time catches up to memory, when the song comes undone at each syllable. It is right then when the hour slips from the glass, where the clock spills its arms into the night. There are tremblings and there are kisses. There are wishes that were spent on stars. Every spark and sputter, the clutter of another...
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It is at that moment, when time catches up to memory, when the song comes undone at each syllable. It is right then when the hour slips from the glass, where the clock spills its arms into the night. There are tremblings and there are kisses. There are wishes that were spent on stars. Every spark and sputter, the clutter of another...
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annulment
It is just that there was this rain, falling so softly, there before the out of focus Christmas lights. The rain falling in such a hush, waiting breathless to confess. Then, as if created right there, a mosquito materializes, rising slowly towards the sky like it was my soul set loose. And something in the idea spoils slowly, under heat and ponder. Something in...
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It is just that there was this rain, falling so softly, there before the out of focus Christmas lights. The rain falling in such a hush, waiting breathless to confess. Then, as if created right there, a mosquito materializes, rising slowly towards the sky like it was my soul set loose. And something in the idea spoils slowly, under heat and ponder. Something in...
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the adoration of the lamb
I would still take your hand, with everything hidden now cluttering the table. I would still listen, through the dark tatters of your whispers, through the confessions so hurtful and true. The weather slides, the cloud circle. The song that plays on steams on just beneath all the skin and scars, and it is always alright to lean away. The...
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I would still take your hand, with everything hidden now cluttering the table. I would still listen, through the dark tatters of your whispers, through the confessions so hurtful and true. The weather slides, the cloud circle. The song that plays on steams on just beneath all the skin and scars, and it is always alright to lean away. The...
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the mood
It wasn't the wind, swift and cold and indifferent to the dancing of dead leaves that spun and skipped down the sky. It wasn't the rain, which nudged and groped and kissed the skin of the long gone night. It wasn't the say or the season, the drift of conversation, the winter in the blood. I am far past the camouflage of reasons...
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It wasn't the wind, swift and cold and indifferent to the dancing of dead leaves that spun and skipped down the sky. It wasn't the rain, which nudged and groped and kissed the skin of the long gone night. It wasn't the say or the season, the drift of conversation, the winter in the blood. I am far past the camouflage of reasons...
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covenant
We forgot the terms, the day was so long. We forgot how we came to this agreement, the days ground down, the night slippery with wings. We spill the salt, we tilt the snifter. We find this flesh has grown too snug. Luck always the one that got away. The street as it stills with rain.
The clocks slows, the longer the hour. It...
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We forgot the terms, the day was so long. We forgot how we came to this agreement, the days ground down, the night slippery with wings. We spill the salt, we tilt the snifter. We find this flesh has grown too snug. Luck always the one that got away. The street as it stills with rain.
The clocks slows, the longer the hour. It...
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limits
There was a golden sky, blinding in the horizon, shining above the green hills of the coming winter. There was a color so radiant my eyes lost their station, unable to see past this heart-broken hue. The road was subtle and a little sad, despite the press of traffic and the rush of wind. The day dwindled, again so sweet, so far. The lights...
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There was a golden sky, blinding in the horizon, shining above the green hills of the coming winter. There was a color so radiant my eyes lost their station, unable to see past this heart-broken hue. The road was subtle and a little sad, despite the press of traffic and the rush of wind. The day dwindled, again so sweet, so far. The lights...
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