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feeding time
There is an arrow head. Next to it, Tiger Lily
her skull, bone fragments, her native drum.
redchildrenwalkby and chuckle
their angel wings look obscure from a distance
Finger nails torn, a reminder.
Your mother told me about that lilac bloom,
the one against your chest.
We grind our teeth to it, fall asleep to its scrambled center. -
hardwood
Distance is a house constructed from bitterroot feathers steel
but Jesus was a red bound book tasted of velvet dirt leaves -
the ode
I know it is something you have all heard before ( Read more... ) -
blue
I found cherries in the backs of my throat found
the spidery web of stars inside like pits raised my hand
to the sky stretched my fingers to the
Gods to the end
of an iron wire of bone
marrow and
paper planes that sore through
dirt
through flower pattern dresses and
the Egyptian book of the dead -
flanders fields
An echo sounds off in the distance ( Read more... ) -
a poem: "amanda"
I miss you, and you are so far away. I still call you my best friend, even though it makes me sad sometimes. This is for you, even though I know you'll never read it.
( >>> my baby's got the bends. ) -
hurryhurry
I imagine losing beautiful language to this barrier between us.
Spoken softly to the shifting spaces you wrapped behind my ear. -
mercutio's romeo
"A plague," he says, "a plague on both your houses." A laugh echoes, stretches through the house. "You have made worms meat of me!" And from that distance, smoke trickles out of his left eye. "I am Mercutio; I will never make it to the end of act three." He paces through the room and finds a book of love poetry, a mockery in peripheral vision. In ( Read more... ) -
jupiter calling
My Dear Echo ( Read more... ) -
february 17: 'LYSM'
traced on my skin
rough with scars