Ivory calla lilies still
The broken wings of
yesterday’s Cicadas,birthing
Catastrophising spiders
Roped in questioning, forget me knots,
her lucid juices beginning to atrophy
Diluting a myriad of hopeless
Blues;
teal, azure and sapphire wrapped in lapis nests
now grounded bowers
holding
an emptiness
Stilling the whirling heliotrope rhythm
Arrowing an electric powdered Loosening of doubt that
shimmies inconclusively out of time
Out of mind
She is
Everywhere yet nowhere
Minus matter
Minus race
Auric Hues illuminate a
Fatal
destination
Veins and
Eyes
Wired in
Complicated
Waves
Brains
Complying
Lies
Frying in
Unknown
Benign
Spirals
Accomodating midnight space
shifting
orbs formulating
wisps lilting in
Problematic Rhapsodies
Mayhem stemming from the barbs of unknown figures
gloriously dividing mind and spirit
time’s vague yet
Gentle Sensorium fills
Saphenous
Attachments, bowers now branching out to her cavernous destination
Blossoming forget me knots no longer choking on the updraft
Electric light rippling in surreal constellations
Distinctly Suited in heated two step omnipresent leathers
Fate now left to stipulate the blackened marks of fallen stars
cobalt and debonair armoured wings of tattered suede emerge muffled kinked and ready
Yet slightly out of place.
About the Creator
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Her Breath
I laid across from her, watching her laboured breath rise and fall. The stark sheet lay like a fresh canvas between the both of us. My eyes stared into her hollow cheeks and now sallow skin. My mind wondered to all those times when we had been close, but never close enough. All those opportunities, awkward drinks in the pub, not watching the other undress in the gym. All those moments, those terrible drawn out moments that sometimes last an entire lifetime, kept secret in your heart, wrapped up for fear of rejection. Each moment now I waited between her breaths in one two three hold - where are you? who are you ? where are you now? that moment and now each and every one I hold as if it were all our moments tied together in a long swirling kite tail of yesterdays. In the hot springs in Iceland, at the summit of Matchu Pitchu, flying free on the back of your motorbike. I watch as a trickle of sweat forms a small rivulet down the narrow inlet of your back. I want to lick it off. I want to crawl over to you and press my naked body into yours, my breasts absorbing your moisture as a blanket, a cushion as a part of you. I want to lay behind you and cradle your fragility enveloping your fragile form, my fingers softly rubbing your pierced nipples. I want your eyes to open with burning desire even if no words are ever spoken and I am nothing but a dream to you. Yours eyes would flicker softly, slowly bringing me into focus. Cat like and purposeful, you have me. You finally have me and I am all you have ever desired. Holding my gaze, you become the tiger I
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So you decided to become an "Advanced Practice" nurse. Congratulations!... is what I would say if this was a good idea. Grad school? In this economy? What were you thinking? Likely it was something along the lines of either 1) “I've seen these other chucklefucks do it— Why can't I?” or even 2) “I've got a nice career, I should shake it up. I miss feeling like I have no clue what I'm doing.”
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