Creative Writing
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Spot the night, cold and white to the grim complexion you hold back. “What errors you,” I ask, in spite of everything I realize has exhausted the rain in your eyes. Clouds are heavier on your shoulders than your mind, over our faces together. To the streets, do you notice the sunlight between the walker’s…
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I did. I handed you the rope, while you chewed the air with it. I loved, indeed I loved, drying my tears, licking my wounds. Chasing tails, sharing stares beneath thunder and moons. Choking on the bones of the dead. Was there ever enough envy? The summer, back, the winter, black with snow to disguise…
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Shower taken, blowing smokefor another breath caught in the light.You shimmer in the fear,waiting for the rain, the tears.I realized how love dries when eyes spoke,disrobed to the phantom nights – revealed with the glimmering frightsin gestures, with the weatherthat sheds your wings with frozen feathers. When the snow stops, will you cryeven when I…
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Silent lips, draft your wordsupon the fatal highway.You were always an ear unheard,before the direction turnedinto these staying arms.I held your whimpers, ample, – your fevers, crystallized.Pulling you from funerary harmsinto the bowels of next love.A tongue, the weather, comfort abovewhere clouds cried for you. While the inborn kept mourningto lessen your scorning.I drank from…
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Find the weaker harlotto kiss her at the better spot.Kill love to the lens,the camera where the flashes sentboring eyes on a swift highway, – for miles spent on a cunning day.One’s pocket is rainingwhat other lives are draining, – when droplets cannot be picked up. Kick up the rocksto scar a throat, where words…
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Vinegar, sourto those eyes that kisswith greater freedom, thanthe mouth that holds back. You tastethe flesh beyond your lips.Bitter, fragile woman,with your arms run acrosswith the bristles, the bumpsfrom sensation. You wasteseconds, to turn aroundto find no sound,no nostrils from the hounds.In your language,release the whisper. I count the curves,same with the bloodied smilefrom a…
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Are you the final tear in a rush of sand? I killed the ocean to get here. I bottled those messages, smaller words to bring you around. Lost signals never docked the love. Wasted shelter, rotting arms. There is a place to freeze with a staying kiss. There is nothing too late to die for.…
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Until the eager stars come falling as common rain, with the uncommon, the rare immaculate drops from your stare – there will be bent forms, there will be surrender to the one bleeding heart, the sun. Until the graves begin to soothe, as countless as stars, with the faces, directed, undirected. With the grief, the…
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Caught, openwith hands catchingthe rain, to slipfrom fingers to the discordedmouth. Can you sipthese words, back intoyour translucent lungs? I want,wanted to besuccessful, in counting the starswithin all the tears you fellfrom the face of eternal grace. Warmth, fatal turnsto the wrong parts of a heart. Cold, brought down kissesto someone who shut you out.…
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Send on a carved storyto a fickle branch,changing with the succumbing leaves,a burial for their arriving winter,in the air. To your stateamong pioneers of hate.We loved until morning arrived,while noon was too lateto treat us the sunrise. To your eyes, naked,in the blue dustfrom the fabric of night.The longest embracebeneath beaming stars. Our grace within…
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All-tranquil to the stilled dust upon a distilled heart where tears were collected, disguised as vapor. I breathed you, brought you to a home we both had found, in the blue. I exhaled you to the tears fallen as powder, as ashes from a crystal sky where I could see my unspoken lie. A word…
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White leaves. Cold, fallen hands. Watered-down eyes. You do not want this, even if you do. Our different sadness applies to you, lost beneath a lens of colorless red, inside the smoke of formless dread. Your throat for the bite, as your arms run around your bare form, with simple strands from dark locks. Your…
Modern Romanticism 