riderless horse, pales in the east
bringing in this fragment of blue,
trampling off the edge
in slow patterns.
at night I am lost.
I am bleeding. I have asked so.
I have nothing to offer you,
but the senna of crawling branches
under closed moon.
absence oils my throat
a purple flux of cessing.
a vagrant hue.
I want your human letters
but I am stained with ink.
the blue floods my eyes
stains the hue of wanderers
at the slant of my door.
once, I thought I knew
my heart
but I am mundane and
cut with sorrow.
I am not forgiving,
just a few paw prints
left in snow.
in a luxurious, shallow sky
I am tethered
to the kestrel
folding itself
to my ribs.
unraveled in the singing
the hemlock spool yellows
in my gut.
I wander my city of pith
as a sickness
asking the hole
in sky
to shut my mouth
to the senseless tune
of what I do not own.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 11:14 PM UTC
riderless horse, pales in the east
bringing in this fragment of blue,
trampling off the edge
in slow patterns.
at night I am lost.
I am bleeding. I have asked so.
I have nothing to offer you,
but the senna of crawling branches
under closed moon.
absence oils my throat
a purple flux of cessing.
a vagrant hue.
I want your human letters
but I am stained with ink.
the blue floods my eyes
stains the hue of wanderers
at the slant of my door.
once, I thought I knew
my heart
but I am mundane and
cut with sorrow.
I am not forgiving,
just a few paw prints
left in snow.
in a luxurious, shallow sky
I am tethered
to the kestrel
folding itself
to my ribs.
unraveled in the singing
the hemlock spool yellows
in my gut.
I wander my city of pith
as a sickness
asking the hole
in sky
to shut my mouth
to the senseless tune
of what I do not own.
