suppose unbelonging had a color a wrongful grayish hue with half the value night falls under: . dark dim horizoned star in wonder
By Morgana2 years ago in Poets
i love my everything that you disdain that scares you, i can tell your contempt for me is daylight plain . words slide silk-like inside my brain
As if she'd known A father's love Hewn from maple felled From boughs scraped high Once against the moon Whittled by His hilt-held knife
When I sleep I dream you're gone from me, But I find you in a theater showing a movie we've already seen. I run out half-way through; you run after me
might i juxtapose your new repose spring to life like a wild grove find meaningless meaning in faith's trove while you sink into despair?
For three years you poised, atilt, On wet wood-rotted beams to frame That strange fawn, big headphones on, biking daily down my street,
My ribs hold an old war zone, Each vein is a fray, For they did snap like taut rope When I'd beg him to stay. My love was once a lush town,
I sometimes heard a calling. Like skirts rustling on the floor above me—and I knew if I could plunge my fingers through the ceiling, I might touch the hem of the reason I am here.
By Morgana3 years ago in Fiction
Your liberation looked like lazy X's in gesso—glossy wide brushstrokes, and no clocks on the walls. Mixing your colors right there on the canvas. Leaving the layers to dry without a fan.
Do you remember the way the spanish moss hung stubbornly groundward in the wind? Drooping, gravity-bound, beyond the gnarled arms of
By Morgana3 years ago in Poets
sometimes i hear (in my third ear) disrepute's song dishonor's tongue shameful like moans snaked under closed doors "quiet girl
sweater in August because: Maine we come upon wobbly cairns sea-cliff stones mysteries declared especially when middles are
