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Morrie W S Apr 2019
a liminal space,
a banshee who screams for the dead.

ashes to ashes
we walk the earth
in cigarettes,
in home and hearth.

my heart breaks:
indocrinate.
feel the grass
beneath one's toes

magic where none
dares to go
Morrie W S Apr 2019
keep me in the
pocket of your jacket

love me in the
corner of your heart

dream of me in mantis shrimp
colouration.
think of me when doth
shatter thine heart.

if i could be
what i would need
myself I lose;
myself I dream
Morrie W S Apr 2019
a dream--
a nightmare:
a trip by the campfire
a castle by the bridge.

a scream
a cry
a fleetle of flies.
& mayhaps a mellow
of peace belies.

if nightmares,
if dreams,
could thus divine--
if could remove i
a snake from my eye--

i still believe.
i still cannot lie.
Morrie W S Apr 2019
she stares into the darkness.
             eyelids mar sighlids.
               winds shalt cower
               as curtains glower.

                          and--
                   and perhaps
                        were i
                     to see her--
in the head of a deer,
in the wink of a
blink of an eye

perhaps then
't'would not be i
who fear doth see.
Morrie W S Apr 2019
if love could lie
between a thigh
between a dream
a rampant scream


i've heard your call
for moons and months


the darkness outweighs the light
the mouse, it cries the brightest night
the dreary have the beeline flight
and thus succumb: morning light
Morrie W S Apr 2019
if i
     could still dream
without thinking of them

if i could recall
      my nightmares
in anything a't'all__
.if i could feel less

       i absolutely would

but ev'r'mornin
doth i recall
the mirror and our
youngest faces


the **** goes off
          the shot goes off

if i had but a single dream
reflected on the television screen--
mayhaps eight i was.

    the explosions i cannot recall
but the dreams remain  the the the

towers fall.

              would that i could
               evacuate this path


              how can i be anything?
Morrie W S Apr 2019
int'rlocked
___


i write my poetry in inkwell,
for if a bit of you shalt leak--
i unequivocally rephrase it.
try I, but there is no erasure

ev'ry moment doth i fear:
my soul shan't crush me,
and the truth shalt i reveal.
trigger warning for depression

— The End —