i. it is uncertain. my body is a vessel for this heart, and I begged for your eyes upon me, greedy, gluttonous and warm, in a dress that curled along my body, your hand caressing the only place I’ve known as a home, and you wanted more. I startle easy, and you wanted more. don’t … Continue reading ‘Pharmacy’
He stands beside me like unbidden desire, summertime rainfall and blueberry teeth the nook in your pack that held your xanax, a willow tree grazing the last tendrils of the dozing sun, and like sweet candy, sticking to your tongue and coating your throat and He tastes like more. He is more. • with the … Continue reading ‘Persephone’
so it is thumb tacks in your throat. barely could breathe already but now it’s severance and cold, hungry rage. • why all these falsehoods? • a spoken word is strong against a wavering heart, though, I am not worth even that am I? • bittersweet, how your tongue tastes: desperation, coating every syllable you … Continue reading ‘Tamago Roll’
You stole me from this house, to find home, find heat, in this hearth. but we didn’t know that you are the heat, and I am the wintered hands and you sound like cracks in the cusp of the flickering tendrils that hold my face in firefly fervour. • I look at carpets, couches and … Continue reading ‘Unanswered, Bared, Where?’
do not look at me, for I do not exist I am skin and bone marrow and oxygen tendrils and you cannot touch what is not there. • so often I find myself encased in glass, in tones of grey and tones of song and a husk under a blanket is the only thing keeping … Continue reading ‘Corpse he Found in his Covers (was it 2am?)’
You taste like cold smoke in my lungs, frigid groves and that knitted sweater, caffeinated mornings and evenings inside, gripping onto falsehoods to beg them to die, and blueberries, sweet on my tongue, wrist on my waist and leg between mine sweat on your pillow and laughter chiming in tune with the sound of your … Continue reading ‘Soft Speaker’
it is black cavernous and cold against my bones and my soul rivets against pure gold quiet longing and quiet despair crept into skin as thin as wire bare-chest and alone matched two, a pair left once, burnt twice, quiet despair let him in, she begs pure hope and pure faith ensnared but he bristles … Continue reading ‘Depths’
