Aurora Borealisstars streak the canvasof goddesses witheclectic brilliance
LoveCaramel kisses drizzlefrom your lips, and Istill to a pulsebeat.
ResidueShe wilts in the wind,but laughter still sounds from aleftover shadow.
Broken BoyMy broken boywith the button eyes and puppet strings -I clasp you to my heartbeat.
Daybreaksunlight punctures,splits open the sky in akaleidoscope of burnt twilight
JoyMay life whisperjoy through your veinsbefore lidding your eyes.
Rebirthsunscape your stale asheswe will fall to rise anewyour phoenix glimmers sanguine
CynicismCrassly creative caricaturesof crisp contradictionsclutter my cognition.
DamageLast night you left the light onwhen you walked away,perhaps to convince yourself [just the wayyou promised me] that you weren'tlooking back. I closed the door,gently,perhaps inviting it to be opened again, ifyou had the courage. I left the flowersstrewn on the floor, our favorite wedding vasesmashed against the kitchen linoleum.I found you on the stoop, two hours later,fingers stretching toward the door. I sighed,knelt beside you, and grasped your hand.Your downcast eyes never met mine.This time I let you shut the door yourself.
LiliyaBright-eyed,bird-bonedwhisper girl;dark-dressed,moon-backedmistress of light.
Space BlanketsPurple cloudsdraped over crescent hips--bashful twin moons.
listen1. I shouldn't haveto explain to you that my bodyis perfect just as it is2. the only thingthat I will ever waxis poetic3. women have large breastsand small breasts and sometimesno breasts at all4. I am not definedsolely by my reproductive organsand my relationship to them5. if I never hear anothersolitary word about my weight ever againI'll probably die happy
A Short Love StoryI counted your teethwhen you died,all twenty-eight of them,because it gave me more timethan counting your toesand fingers (and thumbs),or just looking at your faceand telling the coroner:he's the one.
Vertebraewe dressed oursalt burns;purloined ribbons& bone crownsspitting static throughour buzzing t.v. teethyou're a silent migraine:blue-blooded, honey-soaked[& i want to be somethingtoo pristine totouch]
breakup breakdowni rarely touchthose seven digitsthat make the voiceon the other endyours
1,001 NightsIn a land ofdreams and dust:the curve ofa half-hazed sun,devoured.
fireflieswhiskey and whispers,tiki-torch lovemaking—fireflies in bottles.
.the oaks crouch to greetme, i sit with the ferns andthe forest listens
MythosThe Hunter Orion's prey— a sky of fleeing stars: dawn.Chiron Sagittarius: the archer's arrow, piercing eventide.
.i would shed my skinwith autumn, but my veins wouldcrack like the dry leaves
meanwhile, statesideheat in the darknessyour pulse in your fingertipsthoughts of distant skin
pyrrhic lamentman's final sunset,lost in embered horizons;the purge is complete.
Haiku IIThe moon shines bright whiteThe tides of sea send shiversWhen will my turn come?
MountainAs I first arrived, small and wistful, you were there, a dark, jagged thing pushing against the sky, streaked and weather worn with touches of pink and orange sun. I decided then, you looked like a bandit, scarf brown and green tied over your mouth and nose, hiding half your face, hiding your intentions. Towering height, wrinkles from rivulets of rain have always been there. You see all. All direction comes from you. South away from you, east to the left of you, west to the right of you, and north climbing up to grab your hem. You hold the keys to seasons along your boney ridges, green trees and brown baked earth, and white hot stones- your children. Clouds you hide in, your countenance blanched with snow. You wash yourself in breath that bends the trees southward, and in the clean air you impose upon my mind a heavy presence. Countless feet and then some, you are terrifying and magnetic. People have been at your feet for generations, cropping up houses like white rocks washed up in th
HaikuWriMo1Church spire, stretching,weds the moon.2Slate skyand a heavy heat;collapsing.3Embroidered stars—celestial needlework.4Fairy wrens:steeds of elven knights,armoured all in blue.5Raindrops—wet wings,startled honeybee.6Huntsmanupon orange glass:a specimen, fossilisedin amber.7Scarred grape,veined in gold—kintsugi.8White blossoms,fallen like snowdrops.9Eagle in flight,great wings cradlingthe half-moon.10Pastel sun,peeking from a soft,smoky grey duvet.11The world settles;the heavens awaken—storm.12Black swans:two arrows in tandem.13Mirror-verse—sunset’s reflection,river-bound.14The yellow of anold book:crinkled paper moon.15Tangled in old web—a spider, noosed.16Rough brushstrokesof a smudged landscape:Impressionism.17Giant’s treasure:pot of molten goldspilledalong the treetops.18Raindropslike gemstones,flinging light.
gravitationyou are like a huge masscreating a crater for yourselfin the space-time of my perception
snapshotsIt is unfair that you livein the outskirts of every word utteredduring the heavier hours of the night,while your gambrinous stomach cannot containthe idea of me and all the ways I could show youthe decaying portions of promisesyou made in the dark.Don't look for me, I am only an effigy,built from sleepless nights and the remnants of clothingon your floor.You made me into an inaniloquent mess;your quiet laughter dances in the psithurism of forests,your eyes are sink holes,your lies are the lines on my face.And I never realized how much easierit's always been for youto care less.
winterice sculpts the sunrise,filters down to still the day;silver mists echo
Sorry for the comment spam, but once again, I am blown away by your imagery. <3