Fiction is the closest I've ever gotten to the truth
"I write because I don't know what I think until I read what I say." - Flannery O'connor
An auditor who finds peace and tranquility in writing poems and reading interesting books. ...with coffee or tea!
The intimacies of half-light loom in the indistinct hour.
Mute weavers- nudging one another,
voluminous and pale.
Light exudes her milky latex.
reaching towards the cool umbra. Always reaching.
All certainty ebbs here, in the achromic film.
The manes of the spirits gap the dusk floating as spectral pappus.
They are shaking.
So many spaces between the gloom.
And yet, only to divert the hospitable darkness..
The opening, enveloping absence.
I want to think of the fireflies, their universes of warmth.
Opening and closing their bodies to darkness.
Read the first letter of every word
The match that lit the spark that burned between us, blew out. Extinguished agony, and bittersweet goodbyes. I choke on the smoke that was your essence every night.