• sweet darkness

    should sea foam roll like puppies by my feet, and the wind whistle where red once was; gosh, these goosebumps say they are happy to be alive, and oh, sweet darkness, i could drink your depths forever, the kiss of madness compels me to dip down further; this bride of death asks: please, peel my…

  • spring has left me

    death is more forgiving than the loss of one’s heart; the void that thrums softly and silence that longs for just the right sweetness, the right song, the right breath for the lilies in the valley to ring once more; mother, spring has left me, the stars go out one by one, i cannot hear—…

  • wings of raphael

    your shoulders round over the heart, why do they slope sad? my eyes roam your curls and knots, binded tissues, longing to set your wings free; what is the peak of the mountain for you? when you can have the whole breath of the sky? . . .

  • kintsugi

    my vessel is broken, the voice doesn’t arise, i fear the blood leaking over my chest, clothes soaking wet and screaming, i can’t place the pieces together, not even kintsugi could molt them

  • home

    your anger storms me, like skin on a drum, thundering, but since your eyes have softened, your words sound like ice clinking on a glass, shy-smiles, laughter—home

  • she says

    if the slow-drifting clouds could speak, the leaves sashaying, black wings beating updrift, and the soft, boney steps of a gazelle; so careful, skin rippling to every shift of the wind; listen: she says, i love you, i love you, i love you

  • pink hyacinths

    your voices swirl like the soothing tint of pink hyacinths, slow smiles and murmurings pile like satin on my skin, more; give me more, i find myself softly rocking on calm seas, . . .

  • groundless

    come away with me, the woodlands call, the shadows grasp at my ankles, i am at the threshold; my hand will be held out just this one time; i am barely here for you, wrap your scaly body around my arm, come around my shoulder, hold me in your gaze, i will drop backwards groundless;…

  • jeweled

    don’t close the door, i don’t think i can survive this crossroad without you, please, the one soft as the wings of a doe, stay; i cannot hold the mantle of the heart for long, lend me your arms, and swipe the pedestal under the feet of those you think jeweled;

  • torso

    you pour water into my silence, with each cool glance of your smile, the spark on your cheeks— there are parts of me that have been strained for so long, come lose; my body now yearns to sing like rilke’s archaic torso of apollo