They are long in the tooth, a lean blood pack on brawny shoulders thrusting through. The light behind her images a homing silhouette and she flutters, fierce beacons of blacktop and steel take shape as she stirs, and drivers awake behind the wheel see her and yawn. Freedom drifts off, and the long snake slithers … Continue reading ode to a heart
They say we should starve ourselves for faith. Or rather they wonder why we don't because they're doing it. See, I'm a grain of sand on the tongue, and it irritates these oysters when I stick in their throat. There's a story about this somewhere in there, that place we don't understand, about a pearl … Continue reading that postmodern crap.
it's liminal - gathered family jewels the sigh of relief an unfinished blink liquid embraces long withheld pulling away + proximity forms and figures tallying value viewing by seeing or without celebration decked in flowers, trimmed photos taking the leaf to its zenith an anointing of rain running down the beards of gardeners preparing planting … Continue reading a leaf, taken
Yesterday was Easter. Like lilies we arched our necks and sent fragrance heavenward. We were full as full can be after baskets and feasts; the feeds filled up with family photos and we liked and loved and shared. It was a season of champagne. Monday came and I greeted it with risen indeeds, and my … Continue reading confessional
I. ABSENTIA I wake to the wrong in this unfamiliar, for never have I known a day without breath, or a moment bereft of Divinity. It is all anti- and un- and non-, a string of empty sentences, a filmy negative: Absence. It sticks to me, seeping in through cell walls. Pitch and tar: a … Continue reading triptych
Old friend, rest your head on my chest again, weigh me down. How you've grown since I last let you rest at the edge of my bed. (weight) A lion from a kitten, pads and claws from pinprick paws, sinew and muscle and softest fur, (weight) Dogged, determined a hounding Within, this familiar. Flee The … Continue reading familiars
Foaming and violent as the wave, we echo of beatings taken on shores unknown or known too well. The sea is as young as it is sage, as seasoned in relief as in spite, splitting sand and salt asunder in its desperate grasp for land. Within our breasts beat echoes of land taken kernel by … Continue reading perhaps the sea