Category: Poetry
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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…
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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…