Writing
-
Revealed numbers – our timeto spark memories to our eyesthat let fall tears into opened hands.I see what comes, shimmeringits form into these arms,as I let its damages be mendedin a universe, swollen with love’sblanketing aura. A golden guess, to that amount –a number of stars reflected in an oceanwhere we bathe, where we gatherour…
-
Chance this welcome,face this sentencingto another’s wishful summerof gathering togetherpetals that fall in reverse,towards a vacant sky. I am full, with these handsmotioning for a swaying tune.I am enticed, reaching fora carmine red,I’ve come to abhor. She signals, with her shadowsdrawing a curtain around me,while I leave a worldover these fallen shoulders. I am not…
-
They’ve rained their stares,driving their wind,being insensitive, for a sensitivemind that fails to recognizea paralyzed kind. Futures are all abroad,across an ocean of time-lapse.Histories feed over a ropefor a pitiless balance,shouldering sicknesswith one vulnerable witness. Who knows the restof where we go?Losing darkness,finding one’s way backnot to a beginning,though away from an ending. Words are…
-
I swear, I’ve seensomeone else, standingfar from me.You are runningwith water, with mireflooding for your gatesto open, to keep you goingto that setting sunthat puts you to sleep. Once, I loveda careless coverageof infinite shadows,while all I came to seeis what brought meto my knees, without mercy. I brought kissesto those overturned hands,loosening stones, losing…
-
Bold ones,catering to a blessingthat went out with a candleonce raised,without exhalationto reveal hesitation. Here’s to that lightthat kept refusing us,in our blinded sight. I have been the last onequestioning where you came from.You were, gone with those winds,leaving the same wayyou came in. A long way to walkfrom your delicate rush.No one knew your…
-
Inflamed, to touch himmeans to see somethinggoing black, in widening daylight.A scar, a burn, a bruise,a sore that neglects, that ignoreshis uncontrolled fire. Leave him with his torch.Do not bring it forth,humming his tunebeneath the radiance of Neptune.His tears are his ocean to find,where his face paints a trail, never failing to remind himof a…
-
Where you were,where you remained,turning to icewhile I, with these sheetsof paper, captured youin words of blue. I’ll continue to knowhow love caused us to bleedwith startling consequence,with faces that were fewto watch us, to leave uswith utmost pity. A state of knowingwho we were,bathing under those ashes,giving into those secondswe were true,we still knew.…
-
Fewer, to beunderneath, where wewere counting stars,bleeding with those cutsalong our sacred miles. We were dreaming,or were we screamingin stinging our eyeswith reflections,with desperation? We watched this,from afar. The moonwith its rush of scars,the stillness of aftermaths,of meteorites againstwhat something could notwin against. Exhalation. Reflection.To see our sights in those drifts,where fire forced us to…
-
A degree of heat,your body turned to white –the ash of a fallen world,blanketed in coldest warmth, for I still want tosee you, hold youeven when that thunderkeeps me drowned under. This final flake of snowceased our love to grow,becoming a rush of thornsdeep where we were torn. To magnitude, with gratitudeto seek your return,…
-
Helplessly holdingthis passing wind,letting myself fall backinto your voice. I have heard a word,choosing to collapse,wanting to come down, fatal with the structureof an empire, gone coldwith this love, too old. You have said,“Who are you,when you are buildingyour presence, near to mypainful absence?” I rememberwhat keeps weepingits moments, into mine,into my wearied sight.You wereeverything…
-
Hear this,knowing what’s leftof a sad manwith his beating heart,racing for apocalyptic fitsof senseless rediscovery. He wants to see,he wants to cryshapes of what he’s lost,holding hands with someonein the mist. Another pointless resupplyto that heart that lives onin ceaseless moments,though not without momentum,not without that pushtowards a bottomless hole,where reflections failto look back. He…
-
Laying naked, among this forestof your quiet voice,like a hushed whisperthat keeps singing aloud a memoryI want to forget, I want to losealong with what I’ve lost. In letting you go,can I go? Can I runfar from your swollen arms?You were hurt, buried in life,beneath all that sheltered youunder a glowing sun.We had hope,though you…
Modern Romanticism 