betwixtthepages

Nestled in the deepest pits of the shadows lining my ribs stands a darkened, drafty cobwebbed door. If you tilt your head J   U      S         T so and listen closely, the weathered man In the skeletons of my past's moon whispers the secrets I've forged into ironwill and cast into empty cages. Unmoored, unbound, untethered , these ghosts haunt the corners of my every distraction singing, slinging, stinging the nettles of all the thoughts I cannot falter and all the poisons I cannot leash. I am human, I am broken, I am misty eyed and unraveling, a reveling of ribbonbreaths, a revealing of lingerself I could no more lay claim than pay

Nestled in the deepest pits of the shadows lining my ribs stands a darkened, drafty cobwebbed door. If you tilt your head J   U      S         T so and listen closely, the weathered man In the skeletons of my past's moon whispers the secrets I've forged into ironwill and cast into empty cages. Unmoored, unbound, untethered , these ghosts haunt the corners of my every distraction singing, slinging, stinging the nettles of all the thoughts I cannot falter and all the poisons I cannot leash. I am human, I am broken, I am misty eyed and unraveling, a reveling of ribbonbreaths, a revealing of lingerself I could no more lay claim than pay

A setting sun peeks through lacy clouds, silhouetting the raised feather scars ridging my skin in blood-orange light.  I peer down at the sharp lines, the harsh slope of my brow humped above the bridge of my nose.  The breeze whispers, catching at the rumble of my empty stomach.  It's been days since I was banished to this hellish play at "being human"--I expected it to be more fantastic.  Chipmunks and rattlesnakes won't sustain me for long, and I don't dare take on bigger game.  Not that I've seen any--the land is bone dry and crowded with tumbleweeds.  Despite the day scorching the soles of my bare feet, I shiver.  I miss the lush tropics

In recovery after the transfer, surgeons assured me I was alone.  Six hours later, the anesthesia is wearing off...and there's something slithering beneath my new skin.

a chilly wind breathes through flowering meadow –   autumn dusk   deep shadows drape   velveteen-frosted curves –   a rustling lullaby maple leaves twirl above hooded mushrooms –   the crickets sing   mackerel clouds   streak across purple twilight   as katydids cry stars fall within an icy downpour –   midnight shower   in quivering autumn lamplight:   a lonely scarecrow   watching moon flowers unfurl night slumbers on – wandering spirits   take a timeless stroll   dew frost clings   to shivering leaves and phantom haunts,   an ice-sliver maze dreamy ghosts await the morning call –

Velvet petals fall from weeping stems-- an apocalypse of roses.

intuition bird, sing bright the dawn as blooming secrets fall soft on mosaic stones; our gentle vines creep wild as wind, a wandering metamorphosis: winter caterpillar, spring cocoon, summer wings twinged and falling into flowers before reinventing destiny harmony garden, keep parched and persevering; this world will stop one day to water the seeds with why, and was, and maybe someday could be-- for now, nature watches quiet as sun-dust butterflies collect drifting souls like wishing stars