where does a flower
keep its flaring memories?
in the petals, loincloths
light-skinned in
resplendent ephemera.
or in the thorns,
prickly music of
an esoteric cadence
without falter,
blood upon blood,
flesh upon flesh,
ash upon ash
tumult of pains and the eclipse
of a broken archipelago.
in the stem,
bending to the oppressing wind.
like your body upon my body
swaying to the sound that no
ears hear underneath rivers
and the sorry tale of
weightless drowning no eyes
ever witnessed.
in the hands of the wind
is where they are kept.
moonlight shines its
perihelion mouth across borders
of untouched reminiscences
and we have called them names
and similar aches as rain
dropped like a net of sadness
or the debris of a ruin,
betrayed by the thirst of our
lips when we longed for the sea
and failed to heed its
cerulean calling.
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 10:25 PM UTC
where does a flower
keep its flaring memories?
in the petals, loincloths
light-skinned in
resplendent ephemera.
or in the thorns,
prickly music of
an esoteric cadence
without falter,
blood upon blood,
flesh upon flesh,
ash upon ash
tumult of pains and the eclipse
of a broken archipelago.
in the stem,
bending to the oppressing wind.
like your body upon my body
swaying to the sound that no
ears hear underneath rivers
and the sorry tale of
weightless drowning no eyes
ever witnessed.
in the hands of the wind
is where they are kept.
moonlight shines its
perihelion mouth across borders
of untouched reminiscences
and we have called them names
and similar aches as rain
dropped like a net of sadness
or the debris of a ruin,
betrayed by the thirst of our
lips when we longed for the sea
and failed to heed its
cerulean calling.
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