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Literature Text
Do not talk about
the skeletons
hanging in your closet--
bones bleached
with wishes
and mistakes
are nothing to be afraid of.
Prop open the door
and talk to them--
you'll find
the answers you seek
in their silence.
the skeletons
hanging in your closet--
bones bleached
with wishes
and mistakes
are nothing to be afraid of.
Prop open the door
and talk to them--
you'll find
the answers you seek
in their silence.
Literature
(she's the skeleton in her own closet)
tell me your secrets, he whispered.
i fell in love
with a birch once, she replied, because it was
the most beautiful shade of
lonely.
one more trip to the bathroom tonight-
some days,
she'll get drunk with him,
some days,
she'll get drunk alone.
she cut her hair,
she cut her wrists
(and don't forget her neck)
but she says she is
so glad she spent the night
entangled in
him
him
him
(love, make
wishes on my ribs)
Literature
Owl Bones
bloodlust:
warmth, heat,
and me-
vulnerable and open:
young marrow wings
between your teeth
xylophonic
unlocked in
the pitch scale of
a lunar howl-
slithering, crackled
dripping tongues and fever eyes
treading & greedy to
rip away
those secret selfish worlds inside
the organs
of skies
down the back of your throat
Literature
XXII
I think i too have known
autumn too long
The pale moon,
dimpled and lonely
in the widening
sky
familiar as the dying
leaves ;
this year
autumn will fall
into winter
(and i to you)
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Comments27
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This is so very good! I love it!