for the beauty of the day we wept huddled mass one, singular in thought we
yes... a million times over, I sai… to him, to them to everyone, to no one I gave pieces of me Perhaps
his exit, his entrance stars in solemn shades countdown in pink orbs we, burning out suns commencing solitude
it is a numbing a piercing of the proverbial heart with aching, dull shard a cold depth swallowing lungs contract, fluid-filled
there is neither peace nor dream in a day. truth spattered, canvas inundated. bubbles fluid, liquid no longer...
She saw them fishing poles in hand, walking fro… Fingers, gnarled, crippled with the passing of age. The skin around their eyes, a cany…
eyes awaken, asleep. I dream the taste of purple I dream the touch of you. I dream of tall grass fields on my… shuddering in magnificent breath.
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...
his gloved hand reaching veiled indifference death of a stolen voice crushing, squeezing
the taste of purple inundation eatery fingers flowing in scratching clutch we hold
base of an eggshell in a portrait of painting she is pure canvas had I been a painter she would direct turpentine
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
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…
and in that tear, everything broke every shard of pain, every loss the losses yet to come her voice, her heart caught
