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placesacross
In the beginning, there was darkness: Endless, Certain, the Origin. before the light, In the Prologue, there was nothing to hide from — everything is everything is nothing is everything is nothing — and then It came to be Everything exploding out like the supernovas that don’t exist yet to be compared and turning Nothing Everything into Something that can be quantified, measured, experienced Something came from the darkness and so there was Light; The Beginning. In the beginning, there is darkness: Finite, Certain, Something. Light exists but cannot be received hidden from the Something but only for a little while. It must come to be. at the end of the tunnel is a light, it glares through shut eyes, it burns, and there is the first Breath. Welcome to Everything. Something — You — came from the darkness. In Your beginning, there was light. What do you see?
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Apr 4
Apr 4, 2026 at 11:40 PM UTC
In the beginning, there was light
the storm rolls on cows dance their hooves across the sand; In the grey-dark shadow of thunder you horns gleam silver as the crescent moon Whisk me away before the wind. With nothing gained for nothing to lose It is not a man come save me but a bull
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Mar 19
Mar 19, 2026 at 10:11 AM UTC
the bull-horned god
The world comes back to life The flowers stretch past the snow, the leaves wake up with teary yawns A doe escapes the lingering cold Dashing through the trees. She stops. Something has caught her eye. It gleams, it shines She stares it down it looks back at her That’s the last she knows. There’s a field of flowers in the valley an unspoken truce for the prey from the predator who sits beside her like a brother. (fair-weather friend foul-weather forsaker) When the sky closes its eyes, weeps, comes the rain closes the flowers It brings life Come back to life. Young men prove themselves (by folly — “There is so much blood” He has never dealt the hand of death) The doe lays still. She wants to stay here forever. Let her lay here, let her stay, let her go in peace. Do not crowd her body, do not cheer above her — the morning dew is on her lashes, gathered on her sleek fur — do not disturb the world’s tears. Grab her by the legs and take her home. She’ll be a good decoration, a trophy, the first of a lifetime. The hunting dogs are here. The season wanders into the next Warmth and little rain; There are no fawns. The sun is a harsh hand — she leaves your face burning. What have you done? The sky has no more tears. What’s next?
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Mar 14
Mar 14, 2026 at 10:26 AM UTC
In Spring
(empty rooms) empty halls the labyrinth has no end but one beginning empty rooms empty halls a winding, layered prison. hear the celebrations outside, no sunlight is enough When you find the way out, who took you there? he brings death upon you who tries to escape — "Means to an end" rest alone forever in the wake of Theseus the hero
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Mar 14
Mar 14, 2026 at 10:24 AM UTC
the minotaur had a sister
between the burning, the fall — the tears darkness, light glinting out of reach. glimmering washed over her eyes cool metal, biting, digging beneath her fingers screeching at her ears the air is dry, her throat clogged with loss. it gathers, wet, cold rotting she’s probably the one screaming
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Aug 24, 2025
Aug 24, 2025 at 12:40 PM UTC
Violets Need Bright Light
Your stem is crooked — your head will fall without help. Your neighbour crosses your path but lends no support. You must be the only broken thing. Why? What hurt you? Did anything hurt you at all? If I could look in the past Read you like a story Satisfy the curiosity — Did you snap under the weight of a visitor? Or Is your crown too heavy? Was life too kind; It let you grow fat and happy. Was life too harsh and you begged for everything on the chance you’d get something at all, until you had enough, and suddenly found you didn’t know how to stop begging? There’s no story to read. I walk away and don’t think of you until I’m writing a poem about daisies, and I walk the same road I’ve walked every day before — in my mind, in the dark of my room, with bare feet wearing a comfortable day dress to bed because I don’t want to do laundry — and I remember you I remember spotting you because you were different and Oh, what a shame: this one is broken unlike all the others I had no rush so I stopped and looked But there was nothing else to see so I kept walking. This time I do not walk away. I stop and look and I think of you, The broken Shasta Daisy, taller than all the others digging through the pavement — you will fall further than them all, and you were the only one worth knowing.
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Jun 12, 2025
Jun 12, 2025 at 8:42 AM UTC
Shasta Daisy
I will not bring something new into this world. I have lost every thing ever given to me, I will break anything I make; I will make nothing. I let her go, I left her. Turn your palms to the sky and ask for rain; Turn your palms to each other and ask for help; Turn your palms to me Turn your palm to me A cheek is meant to be red (oh rouge oh blush oh pain) Turn my palms to the ground and ask for forgiveness I’m sorry I thought- I’m sorry I’ll try- I’m sorry, tell me why Turn my palms to each other I hold the world; Turn my palms to me I swear I am sincere. I have let everything break around me I cannot fix anything, I make anew a lie, the taste in my mouth is not stone, it is grinding pebbles paper becomes mulch wet chew salt ink I don’t deserve this I am angry I don’t deserve this Turn your palms to the earth and whisper your wish Close my hand around my sword Close your hand in the dirt Your neck shall Your bones shall My blade shall Everything I have ever touched has been broken; Thank you for letting me embrace you I will not bring something new into this world.  It was a happy dream.  Don’t let me go Break yourself with me
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Jun 11, 2025
Jun 11, 2025 at 11:39 AM UTC
I will never be a father