Month: March 2024
-
Again, Spring tramples the slurry of death like a white warhorse’s blood-caked haunches pounding fertile earth cracking and spurting the green orgasm of intentional chaos into forgetting the memory of decay. Unlike where I spit the chlorine out to gasp through vapors, I see your legs through water in my eyes, but its a rusted…
-
Dear peripheral darkness in the corner of my room, are you my mother? Have you come to wet my eyes again with tears of ethanol or return the memories you took with you? I’d like the ones with the sunshine through your golden hair, the healing of your food, the safest hours of our private…
-
You cannot sleep without wet matchesYou cannot speak without candle waxYou cannot mirror without a bright flameYou cannot love me without firewalking You allowed me to burn the past too desperatelyeven though I am down to coals You removed the pans quietly and scraped me up so slowlyeven though I am down to coals You…