all the poetry inside, the curtain… dropping dusty upon the frailty of my words the world, too old my thoughts, too young, too same
it is a numbing a piercing of the proverbial heart with aching, dull shard a cold depth swallowing lungs contract, fluid-filled
eyes awaken, asleep. I dream the taste of purple I dream the touch of you. I dream of tall grass fields on my… shuddering in magnificent breath.
there is a chamber there is a heart we dream it we taste it ours, unconditionally
the taste of purple inundation eatery fingers flowing in scratching clutch we hold
She walked the raised concrete streets, built from the backs of someone whom she didn’t know. She walked the raised concrete streets, surrounded by creatures of origin. The rain cascade...
She saw them fishing poles in hand, walking fro… Fingers, gnarled, crippled with the passing of age. The skin around their eyes, a cany…
his exit, his entrance stars in solemn shades countdown in pink orbs we, burning out suns commencing solitude
his gloved hand reaching veiled indifference death of a stolen voice crushing, squeezing
He speaks with a purpose that dema… with soft, soliloquy of word to sh… the emulsification, the blood of b… and women carrying the weight of m… Storyteller. Anthropologist.
starlight sings silver catalyst for dreams the woosh of the window unit roars with smokey tang on my lips, I shi… shoulder to door pane, perceptions…
yes... a million times over, I sai… to him, to them to everyone, to no one I gave pieces of me Perhaps
fallible fallen features flawless foes feel, feel, feel formulated
The metaphorical heart Burnt in frozen grasp As the stale air, travels, labored far from memories, moments of horror caught
for the beauty of the day we wept huddled mass one, singular in thought we
