witch’s heart, are you
glowing scarlet rivers
feeding life through
tired veins, are you
older than the soil
planting your feet
on the earth
taking root in deep green
forest, are you
bruised and purple-blue
fighting for the ache
that reminds you
that you are still alive
Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 2:23 AM UTC
it is november again
the leaves are golden
and i am still
breathing
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 12:34 AM UTC
when november drips down
my windowpanes
autumn-heavy clouds
overhead
and the tick tick tick
of the kitchen clock
remains constant
uninterrupted
i sigh
disappointment
clouding my frostbite senses
i check again
once more
wishful thinking guiding
my shaking hand
and almost immediately
wish i hadn’t
and instead
left myself in the suffocating comfort
of blind hope
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 2:06 AM UTC
in low tones of
dusty rose
she spoke to me
heresy dripping
liquid gold from her lips
and to my untrained ear
it sounds like a prayer
ancient overlapping
of hollow voices in her own
she tells me
you were the one
the kind of woman
the world can’t help
but fall in love with
and she skims my arms
as she speaks
with tender feather fingers
slips into my skin
like a well worn jacket
sings sweet lullabies
one more voice
added to her mournful melody
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 1:25 AM UTC
and you were there
- or the ghost of you -
a phantom trace
of fingers at the small of my back
feather-light gust of breath
unsettling the hair
at the nape of my neck
in the corners of my perception
i hear your voice
calling me back
to bed
Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 11:53 PM UTC
i don’t know what it means
to give yourself over
to loving someone
to ache and tear at your skin
until your raw heart is exposed
to pine away
withering in silence
for months
and years
i give my heart to
every person i meet
and fill the empty spaces
with the love they give
in return
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 12:40 AM UTC
a thousand little sunsets
dot the paint drip walls
and hospital gauze curtains
filter light down
dust spots swirling
in the empty space between
me and myself
as the rose gold horizon
trickles down the hourglass sand
and pools in deep violet
i ask you once more
if you think i could have
done it any better
if you had given me more time
and your candy floss smile wavers
sputters and falls
and you turn your face
to the paint drip walls
counting my sunsets
one by one
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 12:36 AM UTC
and as the night
drips down the walls
like sweet molasses
i, too
go quietly
the sweet surrender closing
over my head
in autumn cold i lose the sound
of your voice, dripping
in hues of gold and royal blue
- curse my pockmarked memory
for not retaining
the velvet tenor
of my name rolling off your tongue
like a prayer
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 1:09 AM UTC
the air is not quite winter-cold
but the wind cries names
into my open window
- interrupts my nights
she knows
- the wind -
the liminal stillness of a dark room
and a warm bed
when words are not quite
words spoken
meaning explained away
with a smile and a laugh
and a promise of rationality
in the morning
she whispers
soft raised skin against my sheets
when the warmth of the room
comes from the sound of you
and a flicker of light
on a cellphone screen
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 12:55 AM UTC