it was a blank page. Her hardened gaze caused no words to appear. No flourishing language to embellish the explanation.No distractions to explain the lack of written monologue. Not even...
for the beauty of the day we wept huddled mass one, singular in thought we
it is a numbing a piercing of the proverbial heart with aching, dull shard a cold depth swallowing lungs contract, fluid-filled
there is a chamber there is a heart we dream it we taste it ours, unconditionally
the taste of purple inundation eatery fingers flowing in scratching clutch we hold
fallible fallen features flawless foes feel, feel, feel formulated
my heart has rooms that sigh filled with dust of disuse, of mis… Waking world
I list their names on my heart Count them... ad nauseum, infinity… They, who sew my shroud. I list their names on my heart They, who released it
there is neither peace nor dream in a day. truth spattered, canvas inundated. bubbles fluid, liquid no longer...
yes... a million times over, I sai… to him, to them to everyone, to no one I gave pieces of me Perhaps
starlight sings silver catalyst for dreams the woosh of the window unit roars with smokey tang on my lips, I shi… shoulder to door pane, perceptions…
He speaks with a purpose that dema… with soft, soliloquy of word to sh… the emulsification, the blood of b… and women carrying the weight of m… Storyteller. Anthropologist.
his gloved hand reaching veiled indifference death of a stolen voice crushing, squeezing
She saw them fishing poles in hand, walking fro… Fingers, gnarled, crippled with the passing of age. The skin around their eyes, a cany…
The touch that spans length and difference I feel the distance that he holds captive in heart and… one reach, one touch