Sunday 9/17/2017 02:59:00 AM

the wounds closed. flesh grew over the bandages. yellow skin and purple bruises counting backward from our edges.

we were spent. the cold arithmetic of anticipation. deep cuts wearing our blood on the outside.

the hunble of disease. fickle gods gambling in the dichotomy of our loyalties.

inside the hurricane rages. while the center remains motionless.

faded colors reveal us in small eruptions of want. the road chokes on our progress. as hungry as it is long. we're passengers in our skin.

there's only the distance. a broken mirror. surrounding us on all sides. a thousand jagged pieces desperate for connection.

all the random shadows. as the sky tumbles inside us. all our choices. like wet cement. destroying the illusion. that we're going somewhere.



Monday 9/11/2017 01:08:00 AM

tambourine glances penetrate the depths. seldom distances echo in memory's fluctuating pinch. the lens consumes. vision whispers. as ghosts peddle their wares in the mind's soiled corners and the body's dusty crevices.

storms humble and beguile. eager students of the weather. its fickle loyalties. its abundant indifference.

we ran when we shoul've walked. the door was still locked. we waited when we should've pressed. everyone had already gone.

the clouds tremble. the miles confess. how small we are. how vast the world is.

i try to take the corner, but am taken by it instead.

Tuesday 9/05/2017 12:23:00 AM

adjacent autonomies smuggle the wind. as the distance settles under foot.

the poise of rain. as it drowns us.

the brutal epiphanies that tell us. in split lips and burnt skin.

we're candy. ripe with sweet and sour. melting too close to the heat.

we're milk. spilt. souring in our arrogance.

weather teaching. the sudden storms. the graceful lost. bridges trembling under the weight of our want.

patient dolls. wooden limbs. the curious dance of spoiled victims.

we don't run. still it chases us. it doesn't rain. still we're drenched.

the colors spent. the windows broken. we're cut, but there is no blood.

Saturday 9/02/2017 12:53:00 AM

soft trenches in the sober of her choices. no voice. just whispers. in fading time machines. destinations in the flesh that continue to take us nowhere.

an economy of want.  a poverty of touch. spoil for consent. in raw cold rituals of trust.

the sweet fruit hangs low. in the shadows of grief. the sour seeds nurture their roots in the skeletons that pretend us.

the rain tries to listen. but the fall renders it deaf. the wind wishes to see. though its eyes are absent. the distance dances. rough blades coaxing the stone. friction sings. velocity chokes.

confident in the speed of mass.


Sunday 8/27/2017 11:43:00 PM

seldom merchants of skin. strike their bargains. in tender scabs.

the capacity of lost. measured in blood and bone. empty needles left in the vein.

the pulse of distance. the heartbeat of the wind. the persistent catastrophe of trying to live.

finding the less travelled paths. being found by them. the cold arithmetic of getting there. the oblique hysteria of making our way back.

the small cuts. they're the ones that bleed the most.

the little lies. they're the ones that truly tell us.

Tuesday 8/22/2017 11:44:00 PM

slender shadows negotiate the sun. too far stumbles. the clouds taste the wind. the focus sharpens. the distance chafes.

they're small. the places where it begins. and the ones where it ends.

we spend the math. in fits of long division. we wear the fractions. in a panic of want. the numbers sour and our war is lost. the bridges lay open. the rivers too perilous to cross.

i took the page. pencils marks and all. imagining there was art in the deception. finding colors in the dark.

empty pens cut the paper. weak folds convince the scale. there is weight in the cut.

the shepherd raises his staff. the herd pauses. still those fences failed us.

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