drew-brinckerhoffWhisper

American
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Love is Not BlindMy name, his pupil screamed across the room. / The coarse pages of a New York novel stitched into the binding of my grip. / I am a waning willow under grey skies. The unnerving stillness of chest shatters amongst prose-dripped conversations. Am I ready to? We race to a cab.
22
Jul 1, 2016
Response UnwrittenHeartsongs wave in the frequency of light. / They glide gently through a wavering cavity. / Their voices are filled with the longing of
9
Jun 25, 2016
Abrupt FulnessA branch extending and bending in the wind, / Would gift it's leaves to an unshaken night. / A chilling flow to unshackle - would sway
13
Jun 24, 2016
SprinklesI felt the hair on your cheek like brail standing and screaming, as your breath whispered into my ear. / Down the canal like a Venetian rower it flowed until it rested rhythmically on the pulse of my heart. / Passion fills the moments between the repositioning of our pupils, and in staring
13
Jun 24, 2016
Once, when we go to the beach at night:The water bled color in its mimic of the city. / The shore, cold-green-in-black, tickled / waves into a song of retreat.
22
Jun 24, 2016
RetreatIt's natural to be afraid, / To run into the hollow fields of fear. / The empty light, cold comforting, distills emotion like the funnel of an hourglass. Hibernate between the grains, and let their coarseness strip you of sensibility. Retreat. Run.
13
Sep 17, 2015
Paused in FrequencyIn your eye a shutter-spark that catches / my gaze like a passing street lamp / driving in the rain - it’s refraction
27
Mar 14, 2014
MisconceptionsYou're less than I thought you were. / I am less than I thought I'd be. / Somewhere between
9
Oct 9, 2011
Bipolar Keys in Rapid SpeedI’m writing this for you Annie, / and I’m writing it with bipolar keys / in rapid speed.
14
Sep 1, 2011
In the Days Leading to WinterIn the seasons / where leaves break like bones / beneath treading soles,
19
Aug 29, 2011
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