Siftingand you are sifting through the sandstone sky,Sifting by haphazardmelody
hoping to touch a piece of the sun
and spare yourself the pain
Rebirthsunscape your stale ashesRebirth by haphazardmelody
we will fall to rise anew
your phoenix glimmers sanguine
BorderlineI've always played victimBorderline by haphazardmelody
to my own demise, periscoping disaster
that's just out of stretch;
if I can reach just hard enough, I will
finally taste that dimension of self-control
that rests beside my
Watching a kindred spirit
That resides close to home
But not in my house--
Falling a-part at the seams
Is difficult to witness.
Since she's out of reach,
Just enough to graze the surface,
But not enough to truly touch.
I lock arms with lady destiny,
dancing round and round the room
to the dizzying tune of deprecation-
do I flip her on her back? do I
surrender to her whims? The walls
sprinkle sawdust as I scrape them
with desperate knuckles.
Desperately are how my fingers
Type away at these seemingly meaningless keys
Unable to reach beyond the bright screen
Other than with dotted I's and crossed T's.
Feeling like my eyes are dotted
Crossing my chest with the Trinity,
Hoping there is something than can pull her
From this ocean of hopelessness.
MuselingRed wine ramblesMuseling by Concora
curdle the air, but still
you dream; half-moon
body curled in the
lamp light. I am leaving,
I am leaving, choking on
some holy word—
the floorboards creak,
a sonata for my
whilst you, hair tangled upon
the pillow, are spun gold.
FitsJosiah's tears were fat but silent, first glimpsed in the rearview mirror when Noel asked if he wanted to talk to Jamal before they arrived at Nana's. Rather than answer, he began to wail, and the volume of his wailing increased with every minute that passed. By the time they were on Pinecrest Road, the final stretch of their short drive, the radio could not drown out his screaming and gargling and hiccuping. "What are you crying about, Jojo?" Noel repeated desperately, but Josiah whined and thrashed and coughed.Fits by glossolalias
Noel pulled up his parents' driveway and parked, resting his head on the steering wheel before he yanked Jamal's keys from the ignition and climbed out of the car. He slammed the door behind him and basked in the sanctity of his own thoughts. Summer was still and quiet, the lull of cicadas and bright trees belying oppressive humidity and stinging heat. He inhaled deeply and walked around the little maroon Toyota, opening the door that released his son's fury onto the thick air
Your memory haunts me,
in pockets of sunrise and
talons the moon dances
across pavement; the wind
rattles it through countless leaves,
scrawls it across filmy lakes.
I am trying to commit you
to more than just sensory
images, but sometimes
it feels as though you are