his exit, his entrance stars in solemn shades countdown in pink orbs we, burning out suns commencing solitude
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...
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.
The metaphorical heart Burnt in frozen grasp As the stale air, travels, labored far from memories, moments of horror caught
yes... a million times over, I sai… to him, to them to everyone, to no one I gave pieces of me Perhaps
it is a numbing a piercing of the proverbial heart with aching, dull shard a cold depth swallowing lungs contract, fluid-filled
I list their names on my heart Count them... ad nauseum, infinity… They, who sew my shroud. I list their names on my heart They, who released it
The touch that spans length and difference I feel the distance that he holds captive in heart and… one reach, one touch
for the beauty of the day we wept huddled mass one, singular in thought we
my heart has rooms that sigh filled with dust of disuse, of mis… Waking world
She saw them fishing poles in hand, walking fro… Fingers, gnarled, crippled with the passing of age. The skin around their eyes, a cany…
it was a blank page. Her hardened gaze caused no words to appear. No flourishing language to embellish the explanation.No distractions to explain the lack of written monologue. Not even...
and in that tear, everything broke every shard of pain, every loss the losses yet to come her voice, her heart caught
there is neither peace nor dream in a day. truth spattered, canvas inundated. bubbles fluid, liquid no longer...
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.
