Hinging TimeAutumn's diarydances in the breeze--pages ripped from barren branches.My father's father's bloodwas the same color, once--an angry, untamed flame.My own blood is an oil-spillchasing the metal of my joints--each move creaks.
Jealous WatersPale twilightfrosted the waters;nymphs sigh, jealous of Pan.
Penning AutumnFolded between the pages of booksyou bound our spineswhere the dandelions grow--the anxious poetry of autumn.
Today, I am DrowningSome days,the pastweighs nothing--snowflakesfloatingin a tiny glass globewaitingto be carried awayon the wind.Other days,the pastbreathes with the sea--kelptangling about my anklesbeneathturbulent waves.
Red Riding HoodSunset's red capespills across the horizon;wolves lick sharp claws clean.
Counting LightningA faint flush of bluecrowded by angry coals;the sky holds her breath.
Knuckling TimeClock tattooed--a forget-me-not--on my wrist,big and little handsforever separated.I tap themwith a knuckle,sometimes--willing them to move.To close.But artimitates lifeimitates the wayyou and Ileft the woundsto stitch themselves back togetherand I understand the ironyof time that doesn't movewhen I think about youafter sunset.
Winter PoisonTo the boy with ghost hands:the best we can do is pretend.The breakers will always call us homebut you don't feel the poison--it drips, it dripslike a bad habit.We are fragile.Bury me in whiteunder the winter moon.
Fragile--FFM Day 7Lindsey Stirling blared from my ear buds and I bobbed my head, furrowing my brow. My hand was shoved deep into my purse, searching for my keys. Instead, I found receipts from the Stone Age, a collection of seashells from last year's vacation, and enough pepper spray to blind at least twenty bears.Frustrated, I dumped my portable landfill on the welcome mat; lipstick tubes and loose change bounced across the wood and disappeared, lost beneath the porch. Spreading objects out with my hands, I sighed. No keys. "Damn it all to Hell and back ag--"Glancing up, the box near my door caught my eye. Wrapped with neon-colored paper, a large skull-and-crossbones bow held a handwritten "FRAGILE" note in place. The colors were garish, clashing with the ivory siding. Wrinkling my nose, I pulled the package toward me, keys forgotten. The paper was slick, slipping against the pads of my fingertips like silk. Examining the box, I flipped the "FRAGILE" note over--and gasped.Yanking the ear
Ephemeral1.i wake up and tear the sunfrom the sky like this is agrade school art project and iam supposed to share somethingworthy of myself-- i thinkthere is a black hole nestledbetwixt my lonely ribs,devouring anything alive.on days like these, my greatest weaknessis weakness and i am my own fatal flaw.we live by mantras and my ears ring‘i hate every piece of me’(he put his head to my chestand heard me dying;call me beautiful now)2.we are the false ends of sunkenuniverses, we are pieces ofdead galaxies and you arestardust, god, you arebeautiful.i believe that this is all just a dreamby someone with an imaginationbigger than the word “no,” that weare pawns in a game not worthremembering, but when i’m with youi’m real.i never took kindly to thingsthat required codependency,the uncalloused portionof my frostbitten heartbut god, you arebeautiful.
desiccatei.you were 22 years in the making,a sponge without watersince the day they plucked you from the oceanand left the sea salt to sink into your pores.ii.I was something too heavy to wade in,barely able to breathe,21 years in the makingwith floodgates barring my emotionssince the age of four.iii.At the first sign of droplets,the salt of you drew me inand eased the heaviness of my heart.iiii.In your confessions of self-love,in your tales of embrocation,I was only ever your liniment;our brevitywas a thing to be forgotten from the start.
wallflower clippingsthere's scar tissue in her throat,swollen around the words she never said;dark rings around her eyeslike planets unremembered, anda staleness to her touch,the crystalline Dead Sea.she's living like a storythat's already been told"if no one loved youwould you mean anything at all?"in that moment,we forget to exist.
1,001 NightsIn a land ofdreams and dust:the curve ofa half-hazed sun,devoured.
.i would shed my skinwith autumn, but my veins wouldcrack like the dry leaves
LoveCaramel kisses drizzlefrom your lips, and Istill to a pulsebeat.
MythosThe Hunter Orion's prey— a sky of fleeing stars: dawn.Chiron Sagittarius: the archer's arrow, piercing eventide.
Alla RabiosaScorpio's tail slips low—a mari usque ad mare:from sea to seaover me, a devil in the sky above;and the Huntresspeels dawn like an orange.(Fling meamongst the stars:the Mad Queen's cosmic mirage.)
david and ruth laskini have to be honest;seeing you has always felt likelooking inside a cityscape, nightlight kaleidoscopeand i've grown accustomedto fragility and our literal,nanosecond dalliances.we flicker on and off at the speedof improbable, dysfunctionallight. i have to be honest;i am honestly afraidof your sorrowful sighs, and eclecticgaze, though eerie and off in itslissome niche, still crawls under my skinand plants little foxgloveswhere i can never find them.you worry after events so impossiblethat your aura of floral huesgiggles and reminds youthat kept-secret cardamom leaves have stayedfor as long as you askedand let you sleep soundlessly withmidnight traffic lullabies. morning,we both know, is tainted with the dull mauveof my departure and now that it's timefor yours, i have to be honest;you mustn'tgrieve.you are more than a secretthat will be forgotten with the creakof a silent grandfather clock, and yourpetals, my sweet, your beautiful petals,still grace me in
LiliyaBright-eyed,bird-bonedwhisper girl;dark-dressed,moon-backedmistress of light.
winterice sculpts the sunrise,filters down to still the day;silver mists echo
AsphodelA beckoning:watercolour sky shrinking,too late, teeth fall; pearlsfrom a broken string.Blink and the moon ignites—but the sheets are stillenvelope-stiff.
Love-ku'dlesLovekus to cuddle to.1.Two armsThree little linesOne ku2.Your body embracing mineTwo halves of onerejoin, rejoice3.Ku'ing in the eveningI think of your tiny smileCooing near my ear4.Sky darkens from peach to plumInside I embraceyour flushing5.Blankets or your arm-Warmthone way or another6.Waking up in the morningbrushing teethbefore a kiss7.Hair can wait--Brushing what is baretakes priority8.I ku for you submitting--one ku for a bended kneeone coo for needing9.Baby, nobody ku'sthe way I ku for youso indiscreetly
.a lover leaving hishome for another, a sparkthat becomes a flame
meanwhile, statesideheat in the darknessyour pulse in your fingertipsthoughts of distant skin
spring meadowsbroken breezes throb;a slow smile and naked nights.clouds of porcelain blush.
HaikuWriMo1Church spire, stretching,weds the moon.2Slate skyand a heavy heat;collapsing.3Embroidered stars—celestial needlework.4Fairy wrens:steeds of elven knights,armoured all in blue.5Raindrops—wet wings,startled honeybee.6Huntsmanupon orange glass:a specimen, fossilisedin amber.7Scarred grape,veined in gold—kintsugi.8White blossoms,fallen like snowdrops.9Eagle in flight,great wings cradlingthe half-moon.10Pastel sun,peeking from a soft,smoky grey duvet.11The world settles;the heavens awaken—storm.12Black swans:two arrows in tandem.13Mirror-verse—sunset’s reflection,river-bound.14The yellow of anold book:crinkled paper moon.15Tangled in old web—a spider, noosed.16Rough brushstrokesof a smudged landscape:Impressionism.17Giant’s treasure:pot of molten goldspilledalong the treetops.18Raindropslike gemstones,flinging light.
in which I become beautifulI drown my conscience inthe holy water of my wrists,I carve hearts from emptypaper for my galaxyboywith stars written in his skin,and I swallow moths tomuffle the emptiness andhelp me fly away.
Space BlanketsPurple cloudsdraped over crescent hips--bashful twin moons.