Love
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Who knows that brightness?Alike, miserable, and alike,with brittleness to each of herfeathers of wings, tresses that bringhighlights to wounded words, and am I finding answersin these scars? Am I erasing anythingwhen all I have found,could ever find – is her barrenness? A field,an exploration of these feet,over her flesh,wandering to find,to remind a mindof a…
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Upwards intocrimson timelines,blanketing all momentsin a space, a crude, delicatesurface of white, of flesh that mimics death,surrounding eyesthat close for blooming skies. Tresses, laid againsta pair of lips. She sighsto pages being flipped,while inside her smileare those bared glimpsesof one more solid anchor, one more stain of heavinesscontained inside pebbles,black as shrunken,ingenuine hearts. One more…
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Enactment. Discourage mefrom accusing you. You are ashore,waving your rotting hands,decaying before waves, of sunlight you sent away. Another eternityto match reflectionwith a suddenness,a truth just discovered, emboldened, enlightenedat what you sent acrosson sinking ships. Who are weto keep feeling this way?A cross, hammered with nails.A droplet of blooddiluted into salt, of oceans,with breath overeverything…
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Slowing vows, fading eyesthat are debriefed for what’s uncovered,no longer left in disguise,no longer left to shadows that retreat,weeping for their creation,their light, their position uponabandoned trails. To eyes, leaving tearsas pebbles on littered highways, over to boulders, clogged heartsthat await their appearance, filtering to be craters,an absence of their placediscovered under lens. Lens. Pinnacles…
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Fallen place, darkened spaceinside those harrowing sounds,echoing from brushstrokesin memories, where you collecteddiscarded fragments, from burned photographs. Were you cryingwhen this world had beencheering for a smile,a face you had brought uponvacant shoulders? I am bending to your will,to see you, to want youto come up, like a sunrise, that onlybowed, for an audience,one that…
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Drowned beneath familiarcoverage, clouding theseundermining ambitions, while youhave seen me clogging a heartin distance. I leave thisdecayed rose, at your feet,while I bleedfor a futile eternity. Whose time, this time,is it, to turn over a leaf?I move, I climbto see another shape,hear another sound,to caretake another settlementof blossoms, as you might choose otherwise,among shadows that…
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Void. Bullet, and a tugof a teardrop that keepsthe stains, far away. I find that these reflectionsare transparent, too transparent,too seemlyto a promise too large, to folded pages, pausing smokedrifting across fogging mirrors. Pause what keeps me wanderingof an open mind, too littlein what remains as kind, for I have crippled a horsewhen it carried…
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It’s common to hear mespeaking, while undressingsadness from closing wounds.It’s common to see a turnaround,hoping for sunlight’s shadowsto begin drawing another chapterin ever-darker ink. A torch, dimly lit,with a heart held of each veinwith hands that have pulled aparttheir connection, without disconnectionat fertile memories, going whiteunder clouds where tearswill run out, and I keep finding…
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I hear more wordspleading from your eyes,than your open mouth.I find what squeezeswater, from a rusted heart.I handoff your sight,letting light take its course –letting relief find its comeback,though nothing holds, while hands fall downlike dust from a rotten coat. Cold, floating among grains,wandering like enslaved clouds,a heaviness at each foot, while cures retreat for…
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Splashing in our hearts,ceasing displays of fadedreflections. Who were they?Upon that mass of damages,who were those figurespointing fingers down a road,one we ignored? I come through,down a bleak hallway.I pass photographs,hung at metal necks,cold throats that receivedwarm kisseswith warmer breaths. Our misguided livesbecame watered-downremembrances, descending us into puddles,to sift through dark entrancesto hear heartbeatsin rapidity.…
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Don’t we allfind ourselves, tumbling back –taking back breaths we were notmeant to keep? Aren’t we allhaunted, of those spaceswe were meant to leave, abandonto their shadows? Of memoriesthat keep us blindedto places, ahead, I have cradles beneath cradles,as I have arms that resistwhen I comfort what has left, as a breath beneath my breaths.…
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Floating photographs,drifting on runaway waters.Faint, burning highlights.Agonized slope – a glance from your foreheadto those lips a kiss had found its home, while you found your shelter at a rope. At a loss for hope. At a loss,for words. At a loss for sentences,for a sentence to replace this stateof you. I am at a…
Modern Romanticism 