Loading...
en
English Español Français Italiano

She Writes

waning never was

the taste of purple
inundation eatery
fingers flowing
in scratching clutch
we hold
we hold which we cannot grasp
slippery seal
eel of earnest
gone before a breath
fingernails ever-growing, moment of ever
neverwas and never not
you seem scared, she said
you seem mine
and neverwas and never not
heart healing in fear of failing
keeping those alive
keeping those alive that cannot see
lips that parch in hydration
skin that breaks in dark moon
waning neverwas
waning never not
eternity is laughter
a fine red to compliment
the rich bitterness of “is”

1
1
Liked or faved by...
Cory Garcia
Other works by She Writes...
His and Hers

The touch that spans length and difference I feel the distance that he holds captive in heart and… one reach, one touch
had i been a painter

base of an eggshell in a portrait of painting she is pure canvas had I been a painter she would direct turpentine
mine

there is neither peace nor dream in a day. truth spattered, canvas inundated. bubbles fluid, liquid no longer...
The stories end

all the poetry inside, the curtain… dropping dusty upon the frailty of my words the world, too old my thoughts, too young, too same
The skin around their eyes, a canyon

She saw them fishing poles in hand, walking fro… Fingers, gnarled, crippled with the passing of age. The skin around their eyes, a cany…
I count them, and remember

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
 1
Panic Attack

The metaphorical heart Burnt in frozen grasp As the stale air, travels, labored far from memories, moments of horror caught
 2
we

for the beauty of the day we wept huddled mass one, singular in thought we
Stalemate

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…
mirror, mine

his exit, his entrance stars in solemn shades countdown in pink orbs we, burning out suns commencing solitude
Rise

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.
 1
my heart has rooms that sigh

my heart has rooms that sigh filled with dust of disuse, of mis… Waking world
I dream the taste of purple

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.
 1
smooth and same

his gloved hand reaching veiled indifference death of a stolen voice crushing, squeezing
divine embrace

She walked the raised concrete streets, built from the backs of someone whom she didn’t know. She walked the raised concrete streets, surrounded by creatures of origin. The rain cascade...



Top