320 39 25
|
I have never known this man./
He is not who he is.
|
890
|
the winding hills’ slow night above the valley’s soft shimmer of dots
|
9476
|
And when everything
is said and done
and all the blue
seems to be gone....
|
1252011
|
There's a perfect edge to knowing.
|
300
|
same bruised body sobbing no longer as in childhood
but made mild by the torment, the lost beauty
and the dutiful who continue to move
in some domestic scene
they have reason for.
|
2873115
|
Not when their captives wear saris the dusky shade of star anise—and think not of death but dinner. Silver scales wink at mirrors; one last dance of surrender and forgiveness.
|
128752
|
this one was abandoned... a splinter left under the skin, pushed out by protective flesh
|
96600
|
What do I understand?
What have I mastered or come to terms with?
|
13631910
|
A constellation appears in the shape of Van Gogh’s missing ear.
|
96641
|
You can't always be everything
you were expected to be
|
113853
|
Oh my god - A plagiarizing pony - I know someone must have said that before
|
90900
|
they could be barefoot bastard children
for somebody else to clothe
|
9911
|
In between two bricks / he planted a rumor
|
72136
|
"He is risen indeed," I affirmed with a smile.
I loved the surprise on his face.
I knew my lines.
|
184115
|
Often I'll open a door to the rain Twist the key till the lock gives Feel the night cool against my face And let the water wash me clean I'd like to cry, I'd like to But that would mean my body Knowing my mind was in pain Sticking …
|
