1477 0 0
|
—with spinster goddesses in the middle of things / circling looms.
|
149281
|
She had a strange name which I am ashamed/
To have forgotten, seven times, maybe nine,/
Her lips transgressors, wet with sourapple ...
|
10721
|
In the closet where her leather coat hung/
Are cedar things, some strange potpourri ...
|
2100
|
Don’t try playing with your shadow
It can lead to serious consequences
It will constantly follow you if you do
It will always return like a bummed-out dog
Playing with your own shadow too much
could lead to insanity
You should hide
|
86800
|
The smell of your chest, and the taste of your lips
as they touch mine
|
86040
|
laying with you, thinking with you, breathing with you
|
9162
|
You have holes in your mindwhere your true, positive mindformerly thoughtYou have eyes that are beautiful but insane andseeking chaos to stirYour face is old andgray-covered, gray-colored,nodding downward, makingshapes in the snow, reemergingwith frost burnsYou have killed…
|
6354
|
Charlotte 6 is immature on Sunday afternoon Charlotte 7 is deciding who to blame tomorrow Charlotte 8 is feeling remorseful on MondayCharlotte 9 is a raging world external to us Charlotte 14 is an abacus in quicksand Charlotte 15 is a spiritualized portrait with…
|
174473
|
We walk in silence. We water our plants. We don’t eat as well as we should. We try to love. We try to forget.
|
26124
|
What shall be packed in my
suitcase when I leave?…
Fairy tales for a life not
lived right.
A whole life of occasional
hearts shoved into a box with
locks.
|
2000
|
You materialize out of the darkness
|
117290
|
Of flowers there Are none In June No sun Upon my cheek The gentle breeze Stirs me not The smiles They cloud my vision Birds they Sing their songs But I hear Them not When tears Rain down My heaven.
|
107740
|
Green hands
wave
in freezing water.
|
6221
|
Blinding white and grey world half mile from the shore
ice crests aligned in their dying wave shape,
we traipsed on a blizzard hard water wasteland
|
1680198
|
You would think when a bowl hits a tree the sound would be fierce, a loud clatter as stoneware explodes on birch bark dispersing shards in daffodils and grape muscari, but the noise is gentle, a thudding clink like empty bourbon bottles rattling hollow in…
|
