reypulque

The feeling is fleeting, that passage between the heart and the wide open world, where you remember the bright and beckoning places that once held you close. The times when there were friends and family and some measure of consolation to be found. The years before the getting up was all the labor you could manage. The days when pain wasn’t your only companion. To...
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This day is stuffed with straw. This day is built brick by brick, the sun and the rhythm of the lost path. It seems pretty dumb, but it knows what it’s doing. Shadows fill the landscape with bright birds and blue ghosts, children screech and play as the burning world goes gray. The words come along the way words occur, in fits and starts and...
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The shadows reach towards tomorrow’s sunrise while the slowly sipping leaves take in the last of the lingering day. The sky climbing up the trees while the sun says its long goodbyes. I lean hard into the breathing, rasping and spitting and clearing my throat like I’m about to start making a speech. The animals laze around the yard, and the crows are calling each...
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Out of all the stars, it’s this one, beating down the doors of the day. Out of all the worlds, it’s this one, turning beneath our feet. Fate’s funny that way. Full of falling skies and shifting sands, earthquakes and tidal waves and wild fires. One thing happens so half a dozens things don’t. All the imponderables that accumulate because of the lay of the...
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The sun spills out across the long drawl of yards and houses feeding lawns and trees as they ease their magic for the day. Traffic and packs of bicycles slide on by. A pregnant neighbor walks her resolute toddler down the block, stopping to strategize about a pacifier, before waving and heading on down the road. Some frou-frou truck rattles past, shaking with dopplering bass....
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The afternoon takes a deep breath and exhales sun and sparrows as shadows paint the cement and the doves make their move. The sky takes its time, shuffling clouds and spilling wind as the the air warms, birdsong and amplified music mingle while the world takes us for a ride. Families move maskless along the sidewalks, children and parents mingling with neighbors like they were...
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These cold mornings I awake forgetting that time is fleeting, then I reach for you. This glimmer of distance the dawdling of the clock on the wall, the mumble of gears turning away. The sense of the press of your hips against mine as dark dreams rouse me. The sense of your warm shadow lingering long after your flesh has left. Sleep dashed along with...
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The wind is always waking up, the light is always ailing. Letters that I sent myself in need of misspelling. Something about the way the ache unravels the moment, something about how the song leaves your lips insists. I scrape my hand, I scuff the dust. I reach into the dark and the distance, my touch somehow always missing you the most. The magic of...
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The idle fire of this winter sun has all but burned down, leaving a sky like sallow faith lingering on the skin. Plumes of dust and unsettled embers, trees fill with shadows, abiding this slithering sense of self. The name that fails to find a tongue, the face that stills, another portion of bone and flesh dancing in feel and fact. The frantic yapping of...
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My feet braid the traces of everyday trails stepping through the braces of the back door. I scuffle through the plumes of dust, every sense so vivid, slipping on the setting sun. The day failing its saddle like a bent crusader falling into shadows on white sands. The night abrupt a stone in a slipper, adrift in these drizzled stars. All the habits of these...
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