Writing
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Some blended oceans,some crisscrossed goodbyesheard at this awakeningto a sun on another sidethat did not drift,quick with what restedas our hands parting likeangel wings, cut free,for our stagnant sleep. Close with what nevercloses, while doors are heldopen, while leaves take their journeyacross floods. For oceansto believe in, for sadnessto confide with, we have heldthose final…
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I have beenholding glassto see. I have beenembracing shards,to bleed. Your rushingeyes, running westwardto find where a bodyset, engulfed at a gulf,where flames are dousedunder radiant transparency. Nude form. Hushed scorn,when words burn withrising suns in that kiss.Rose-red cheeks, blemishesdrowning perfection intoundermining correction.You reveal sounds from lips,when it does not hurt.You hold your flesh,when you…
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Drawn cards,turned down tobad luck. Are youswimming while Isink, high atopisolated ships?With an abandoned heartthat skips another secondto see a shoreline,to find hope’s outline. With eyes that rushwith waves to seewhat has been drawnfor another time.A card for luck. Orbloodstreams that stuck,never moved, nevermoved on, while always youcome back to mind,in that crude outline. Hope…
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To those dreams,I had walked.Inside these winds,we had talked.Taking your hand.Finding ussafe, on habitable lands.You held your noteto that pale moon,while a star glimmered,to drop from youremerald eyes. Gardens gave riseto those places we surmisedwere roses to not everbe plucked fromtheir nestled place. We thought that our yearswere ahead of us.Fragile, for what we spoke,while…
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All in all.I hope that our rainkeeps pouring.Fall within fall,I pray forAutumn leavesto keep bristlingwith those clashingchimes, fromcrying branches. You went onto run on,while sticks weresame as stones,floating on puddles,gleaming in your eyes.While I stayedto look at a moon,hope kept finding mewalking backwards,to a cliff. A heaviness.Utterances to a fewvowels that betraytheir neighboring consonants.In all…
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Like nebulas. Like breathsbreathing out a veil,with stars that oncecovered, connected,eye to fragile eye.Our hopes were buildings,brought down into dust.Our hands wereconnected, in whirlwinds,listening to sentencesthat echoed, from aheart, lost on a bookshelf. Those nights that I speak,laboring to breathe,breathing with laboriousstrain, to reach you.Something buried youa foot more beneath sixothers, that held you frozen,among…
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Prayers. On these tracks.What was lost? A life, stuck insidea beating heart.Rhythms that neverbecome silenced. Horns are whistling.A danger for someone’stomorrow. Are you there,in those black clouds,brought, from behind,in history’s cradle? Colored eyes,in a sun that receivestimeless shelter.I come here,crawling with ropewrapped aroundthese wrists, these feet,hoping to sleep. You discovered yoursafest place, awayfor toys to…
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Run with them.Those children, wholaugh near a river,moving without shambles,retreating into thoughtswithout a teardropto escape them. Their ignorance,their views to seebeyond misery.I lost what I found,beneath these uncoveredrapids. Long trails ofglistening white, like thatof a wedding dress.A rushing roadgoing nowhere,I can predict. You went on,without me at your side.You said this worldheld darkness, without someform…
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Confess, for a second.Undress, into remembrance,as shadows are thoseflakes of dust to brush off.Painting youfor ceilings,as letters were writtenfor sunsets, for answers thatbroke at their destination,at a pair of lipsgone silent. Deaths, at a quieted heart,where floods go onwardfrom eyes that werealways looking backwards.Someone once said,skies were meant to be blue,while that sun stays high.I…
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Watered roots.Misguided freefalls.You have labelled me, enoughwith everything.Pulling you up,while grounding mein principle. I write your name,without signing it,without ever underlining it,since you’ll want to be rinsedfrom this repetitionfrom echoing a purposeless,senseless devotion. A brief smilecomes with clouds,decorating these armswith thorns.One cruel shadowhas us falling close,while we do not repeatthat day when welost our silence.…
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High tides,white sails turn intodepictions of love turnedto something with depth,though breathremains absent. A pair of wingsare yours to soar,high above, while Ifloat or sinkat this fatal brink,losing that visionwe both sharedthrough a pair ofblind eyes. Someone tells our tragedyto review itself,as we long to hopefor another dayto play itself,writing answers to our eyes,layering tears…
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Red underline.A teardrop that paintsan ocean, without color.Someone has neverbeen at your place.A grace, withoutsomething to keep youisolated, in depiction.A beauty withoutsomeone else’s eyesto capture it. A canvas. A strokeacross your cheek, towipe free, sadness I see.Here, you bleed this earthacross, laying stillin stiffest memory. Colors in all you are,except for water in theseeyes, to…
Modern Romanticism 