"interstitial" poems
Lovesick and you've got the cure.
Got all these symptoms. You know what for.
Don't be afraid of this contagious disease,
Just take my requisition form.
I've made room for you in my atria and ventricle.
You're the capillary to my arteriole and venule.
You're the amniotic fluid to the child in my heart.
I find you even in the interstitial parts.
Treatment like uours is like a centrifugAl force.
So be the **** stasis my heart is longing for.
Some homeostasis is what we need.
We will make compromises to succeed.
Lay me supine and you in prone.
Sensory neurons fire
Exocrine glands make to pressure
Spark endocrine glands to hear you moan.
Without your heart I'd be anemic.
Withiutbyour arms I'd be half a paraplegic.
Your kisses give me air, without them I'm cyatonic.
You're the fibrin in my veins, to my pain an anesthetic.
I'm ready for some long-term care and affection.
Got a chronic condition that needs your attention.
I k now I'm concluded, parts of me sclerosed.
Don't wait post mortem to know that you're the most.
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 3:51 PM UTC
Extravagantly exorbitant mentality panacea
Pretentious eidetic’s ubiquity mnemonics
Extraversion embezzlement extortion mens rea
Endergonic laconic cacophony phonics
Preterite rendition enclitic equilibrist motion
Mystic symbiosis dharma spiritual sky
Brusque macabre abjections the gist of the potion
Straight up forever ontology on high
Obdurately abstruse vituperatively vociferous
Juxtaposition apparition myriad avarice
Orotund sonorous diction obliquitous
Multifariously versatile nefarious nemesis
Mirador bartizan phantasmagoria aesthetics
Guidon gyration excursion integration
Sorcerous alchemizing interstitial endemics
Chaos charisma objectified tribulation
Conjurous apothegms clitoral apomixis
Exude emote surrogate extrapolation
Astral projection littoral hypotaxis
Kinetic supremacy homogeneity gravitation
Coercible coalescent cohesion dexterities
Adjunct conjunction conjecture acuity
Platonic pragmatic prosaic austerities
Extemporaneous impromptu innuendo fortuity
Propinquity habitation harbinger spectra
Perplexing paradox tenacity rostra
Intensely cogitational abstract mantra
Penumbral exigency , umbrage per contra
Theoretical incursion grandiloquent ne plus ultra
Exogamy of homoplasy sic itur ad astra
Quiescent serendipity surreal anestra
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 6:16 AM UTC
The tiger is here
to eat us, our
Life, and finish
dessert with a Pi.
Let's vote.
All in favor
of running, run.
All those in favor
of stillness, run.
The maai is closed.
Interstitial space allows
only muscle memory
moments
trained through countless
centuries of bipedal
scattering, synchronized
patterns designed to
confuse
a striped predator.
We move
unsure of threat
yet left, running.
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 6:24 PM UTC
Distance traveled time spent's dynamic progressiveness, existentially transcendental's clairaudience clairvoyance. Metaphysical mystique’s evolutionally metamorphic futurity's fatidic incarnate. Due yesterday’s retrospectively retroactive. Protractive analyses' dimensional delineations. Enigma entity’s dexterously tactile acuity and coordinated agility on the identity crisis. Cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix to synaptic syntax semantics. Prospectus perplexity surreally sublime. Quagmire quandary’s poshly plush. Who am I to think I can conception of the infinite supply? Even the syntactics of eclectic synectics pale by compare to the atrociously impetuous impudence in pugnaciously audacious. Impromptu innuendo's juncture. Imagination’s immaturities are psychic clarity’s entelechy to evolutional tenants élan vital. Fiduciary principle's financially responsible fiscal policies. Mercenary mendacity's plenary plenipotentiary. Innocuous noumenal verity, mystic symbiotic’s chicanery dynamism fealties. Proximity parameter’s perimeter peripherals, vicinity victuals to vigilante villain, propinquity habitation’s harbingers of harangued. The question remains on the tribal: how can I stand next to the person I’m standing next to if I’m carrying on right through them. It’s the trajectory extant in spatiotemporal's telemetry tactician. Well graspy greedy on the stingy frugal to mingy minion and paw flaw laws claws on it. Get a glove, objectified manifest’s diminutive minutia iota’s of self-inductive interstitial extrapolation. Detinue perfective. Traveling down this obtusely overt contusion in my vehicular contrivance convection convolution. Nimbus nimiety exorcism’s aura roan to rainbow mare. Unicorn railway nails. Swarthy ******** swath swizzles on the sweaty swelter swerve to verve.
May 28, 2019
May 28, 2019 at 12:10 PM UTC
The moon is full tonight.
I can feel it's pull.
The cat stares at me.
Her eyes seem to suggest she knows what is on my mind.
As I gaze up into the mysterious sky,
The familiar taste of salt trickles into the corners of my lips.
I can feel a tug of my emotions,
Like the moon somehow has a role in the pull of my interstitial fluid.
It is basically sea water,
Right?
The black cat loiters a certain superstition within.
Fear becomes instilled as she stares into my soul with her all knowing glare.
"Blame it on the moon, blame it on the moon.
Tides come and go, so this shall too"
I strive to find the comfort this world has to offer me
Some say it comes from within, this I am not sure of.
The thoughts linger. The cat knows, I know she knows.
What does she make of me in this incapacitated state?
I taste the salt. It is drawn out by the moon.
That is what I tell myself.
Deep down I know the salt is due to the overwhelming grief I try to deny.
And the cat is merely the internalized self stigma eating away at my self esteem and efficacy.
Dec 18, 2017
Dec 18, 2017 at 3:57 AM UTC
Pertinaciously vituperative irrefragable determinism. Inscrutable axis of spontaneities’ imaginative. Perplexity’s prognosis to prospectus. Elan vital’s preternatural perpetuity. Cohesive coherency’s opaque opulence. Space-time continuum’s natural induction expressed as identity. Exponentially tangential imagination’s immaturity. Entropy catalyst blonds. Spaciotemporal telemetry tactician’s tellurian terrene. Protractive analyses dimensional delineation. Reflectively refractive positional empathy. Prophylaxis protocol. Objectified manifest's self inductive diminutive minutia iotas of interstitial edict. Graspy greedy stingy frugal mingy minions. Manumission’s indentured servant sail.
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 12:52 AM UTC
Distance traveled time spent's dynamic progressiveness, existentially transcendental's clairaudience clairvoyance. Metaphysical mystique’s evolutionally metamorphic futurity's fatidic incarnate. Due yesterday’s retrospectively retroactive. Protractive analysis' dimensional delineation. Enigma entity’s dexterously tactile acuity and coordinated agility on the identity crisis. Cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix to synaptic syntax semantics. Prospectus perplexity surreally sublime. Quagmire quandary’s poshly plush. Who am I to think I can conception of the infinite supply? Even the syntactics of eclectic synectics pale by compare to the atrociously impetuous impudence in pugnaciously audacious. Impromptu innuendo's juncture. Imagination’s immaturities are psychic clarity’s entelechy to evolutional tenants élan vital. Fiduciary principle's financially responsible fiscal policies. Mercenary mendacity's plenary plenipotentiary. Innocuous noumenal verity, mystic symbiotic’s chicanery dynamism fealties. Proximity parameter’s perimeter peripherals, vicinity victuals to vigilante villain, propinquity habitation’s harbingers of harangued. The question remains on the tribal: how can I stand next to the person I’m standing next to if I’m carrying on right through them. It’s the trajectory extant in spatiotemporal's telemetry tactician. Well graspy greedy on the stingy frugal to mingy minion and paw flaw laws claws on it. Get a glove, objectified manifest’s diminutive minutia iota’s of self-inductive interstitial extrapolation. Detinue perfective. Traveling down this obtusely overt contusion in my vehicular contrivance convection convolution. Nimbus nimiety exorcism’s aura roan to rainbow mare. Unicorn railway nails. Swarthy swastica swath swizzles on the sweaty swelter swerve to verve.
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 10:57 PM UTC
outskirts of
Seagull-Sunday
tethered
in darkness
the road
is moving
at the perfect
speed
intermediary
spaces
like peaceful
trees
blend into
the fog
of circling
insects
brittle
nocturnes
an overnight
journey
spent
staring out
the window
forming
itself
entirely out
of the interstitial
moments
that make
for a sort of
homecoming
Apr 1, 2024
Apr 1, 2024 at 10:29 PM UTC
Climb into bed and...
Hearth embers of body heat circulate,
Tourists on self-guided walking tours,
Exploring the cabalistic eighteen chai holies of the
Human body, temple depository of spark divine.
Heat sparkles cross over the isthmus of Touching Toes,
Continental negotiators, swapping free heat for icicles,
2 X 10 interstitial connections, now land masses filled,
Global warming credit trading par excellence
Fingers, jew wandering, exiled to freedom,
Intertwined within soft-edged, graying sea grasses,
Coverlet over pounding chest,
Hands illegally mining tousled head hair,
Nestling, nesting, without proper permits
Lick away the rumbling hoarseness
Coating a neighboring sleepy throat,
Gate crasher bringing surround-sound comfort,
Seeking to seal and still the groans,
Escaping prisoners of the ills of the wearied mind
Your favorite parts inspiring, demanding
Song, word, drawing or simple quenching,
Tonic of revival, an affirmation of self,
Existence proofs met through need
I write this for me, for her, for you.
Suckers for iron pyrite, most will skip this polemic,
What you don't know about me could be a
Hit show on prime time cable TV.
Like a cute commercial that makes you smile,
For a product you'll never buy,
I write this for me, for her, for anonymous you,
I am the voyager, you the ******
Middle of the night envisioner,
Re-writer of The Gift of the Magi,^
If I die today, I leave this as my last
Will and Testament,
Just another love poem
You'll never read.
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 10:59 PM UTC
Tennessee Williams, once said, “The world is violent and mercurial—it will have its way with you. We are saved only by love—love for each other and the love that we pour into the art we feel compelled to share: being a parent; being a writer; being a painter; being a friend. We live in a perpetually burning building, and what we must save from it, all the time, is love.”
<>
how succinct, successful a summary
do we require, nary a word excess,
only love comes at ya slap-dash-
across-the-face, to make the point
its presence in everything and every
human touch point juncture, is a
conjunction,,
be a writer, even when muses en masse
desertion seems overwhelming, query
with love this conundrum and fill the
open yet tiny interstitial space with a
soup of creamy hope, inspiration is ever,
never late, for it runs on its own schedule,
which is forever unpublished and happily
irritating us when we least expect its timely
birthing…
wet the eyes, remove the shadowy slumber
residue, with vigorous water splashes, flying
drops everywhere- is that not a poetic command?
rinse the mouth of the failed taste of insufficient
sleep, or the countervailing dry excess of too much,
when we hide from the challenge of game on,
and the liquid sloppy of the premier
day~light~enunciation…
give birth to conjunctions, attach the independent,
linking the minuscule to the primary, and write of
it as if you were the first, indeed, you are this moments
first…
to exit the permanently burning building…you must
run to it, enter willingly and save it and by dousing
yourself with *love, save more than just
thyself*…
Mar 8, 2024
Mar 8, 2024 at 9:15 AM UTC
happened upon an extravaganza of spring’s hallmark,
the cherry blossoms outing their munificence of color,
I happened to position myself direct below a tree,
the thicket
of blossoms so, well, thick, that sky was obliterated ‘cept
for pointillistic spots of blue sun, yellow sky that poked
through the
few de minimus interstitial spaces permitted, and was
struck silent, by-for-before shimmering eyes that uttered the
requisite oohs and ahhs,
and
words came to me weeks later,
when the memory, now fully decanted,
reappears
courtesy of a giant tech company’s code tinkering,
merging and splurging the combined images in the
photographic memory
of my devices,
as if to say:
your life is
points of light and color and scent
as you write now
amidst the hubbub of jackhammers, raucous horns a blaring,
the homeless screaming on the street at god,
the fatalistic headlines of hate and
the pallor of a low level haze of perp~gray
between you and your true elfin self,
and you are not surprised,
but sadly, but not entirely,
bemused
that the photo’s true utility was to
remind weeks later
that all that my eyes utter
is not just
woe, double trouble and toil, toil,
*but to Hey Jude and George,
step out and see the park on a Sunday
in its entirety and to glory in
your being
by being
a point in that tapestry spectacular
of ingestion, digestion and final comprehension and
a happy*
exhalation
May 10, 2024
May 10, 2024 at 8:06 AM UTC
*creation rests within intricacies
rainbows occupy little space
imagination is pervasive
hope encompasses galaxies
sentiment imploring reason
heart negotiating the mind
sentient reconciling reality
dreams awaiting reincarnation
faith in earnest development
amidst premature existential loss
artistically loving expression
crafting interstitial intimacy*
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 11:54 AM UTC
Inside the café
I look out on to the small portion of the city grid that unfolds before my eyes:
Beyond the softness of my translucent reflection on the window pane
Towards the sea of black coats, umbrellas and moving shapes that grace the landscape.
Another person,
Another life:
Another unread novel rotting on the shelf
Passed over by all who would read it;
Passed by on the city street.
Can you feel the rain between us
As you move on
Pretending not to see the face that stares past my prints
Shining off the window after these longing fingers pull away?
I have seen it in your face when look down or straight ahead
And pass by the others in your bubble as if living in your own dream:
Merely a distant gaze,
You face the throng,
Face desire
Face the unconscious need that drives the surrounding movement forward
Towards the discovery of its own emptiness that renews its search and its longing.
You do not share this longing:
Dwelling in this space between the others
Content to be carried along by the forces beyond your control
How I wish your calmness would infect the world around you
So as to part this ocean of desirous chaos
That I might walk to you
Look you in the eyes
And smile…
Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 12:37 AM UTC
Extravagantly exorbitant mentality panacea
Pretentious eidetic’s ubiquity mnemonics
Extraversion embezzlement extortion mens rea
Endergonic laconic cacophony phonics
Preterite rendition enclitic equilibrist motion
Mystic symbiosis dharma spiritual sky
Brusque macabre abjections the gist of the potion
Straight up forever ontology on high
Obdurately abstruse vituperatively vociferous
Juxtaposition apparition myriad avarice
Orotund sonorous diction obliquitous
Multifariously versatile nefarious nemesis
Mirador bartizan phantasmagoria aesthetics
Guidon gyration excursion integration
Sorcerous alchemizing interstitial endemics
Chaos charisma objectified tribulation
Conjurous apothegms clitoral apomixis
Exude emote surrogate extrapolation
Astral projection littoral hypotaxis
Kinetic supremacy homogeneity gravitation
Coercible coalescent cohesion dexterities
Adjunct conjunction conjecture acuity
Platonic pragmatic prosaic austerities
Extemporaneous impromptu innuendo fortuity
Propinquity habitation harbinger spectra
Perplexing paradox tenacity rostra
Intensely cogitational abstract mantra
Penumbral exigency , umbrage per contra
Theoretical incursion grandiloquent ne plus ultra
Exogamy of homoplasy sic itur ad astra
Quiescent serendipity surreal anestra
Dec 15, 2016
Dec 15, 2016 at 12:37 PM UTC
the fabric of reality
rests on the idea that
everything is nothing
and nothing is
what I've been
yearning for
interstellar or interstitial
irregular and irradiant
never too late
always significant
sometimes terrifying
just say yes
Process and Purge
a radical transformation
is upon us
open your Heart and
your Mind will follow
one day this body
will be a corpse
and that doesn't
frighten me
in the slightest
ordinary anxieties
lose their authority
and I am Alive
at last
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 9:23 PM UTC
Grow, grow, growing grow
Taller, wider, deeper, steeper
Topsoil cracking
Foundations creaking
Interstitial water leaking
Gases pluming
Sun too hot
Birds forgetting how to fly
Flies all set to multiply
Central heating turned up high
Fish recumbent on the sands
Hail brave campaigning elephants
Who rampage through
the concrete jungle
eviscerating 4WDs
with tusks awry
trunks outstretched
eyes akimbo
Vanguard of a worldwide army
of feather scale and bone
all stitched up
By might is right
into a threadbare tapestry of deprivation
Today we spread, we glow, we grow
In rampaging delight we gag
on feather, bone and scale
We suffocate ourselves
Tomorrow
The earth will fry
And so might I
Is this the way to end our poem
© Diana Korchien 2012
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 7:39 AM UTC
It was raining and it was morning.
They sat in the car underneath a tree, upon a hill, overlooking the vast cemetery below. Clichès still have the potential to be beautiful, they know. Intellectual awareness allows for understood symbolism, the death of that which dies at a cemetery, the emotional downpour demarcated by rain, the interstitial distance of looking forward and down.
Silence and language working symbiotically as a stratagem to both hide and reveal vulnerability. The clichè of their location works with the conversation.
He is sad. She knows.
She knows the emotional location he lives within, she purposefully disregarded his eyes, those eyes that have always stared at her from the mirror, her eyes. The eyes of those with hollow love for themselves. The selfishness of selflessness, the facticity of unfortunate neurological tendencies, the self-imposed limitations.
They speak. He speaks.
She hears him speak, she who is devoid of empathy, she reaches empathy through his words, she hears the thesis of her own thoughts, she cries. She cries because he narrates her perception of herself, through narrating his perception of himself, and she knows the meaning of it.
He cries because it is his.
He looks away.
He says I don't want you to know the things about me. The things that are disgusting.
She loves those things. It's not enough. She knows.
She talks to herself, she talks to him.
She takes his hand, they cling to the ephemeral union.
It stops raining.
They walk into the chapel, the ashes of those who lived resting upon glass bookshelves, behind glass cases. They sit upon a couch in silence. They collapse, against each other.
Two women observe the marble of the mausoleum.
They arise. The women are startled. The women didn't see them sitting; they were three feet away.
He takes her home. They fade into wordlessness during the drive. They look at each other with desperation at a stop sign.
She says goodbye. She walks away.
They walk away.
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 3:48 AM UTC
not that the ness
is gone she's found
herself carrying a
burden of pure
boredom. the dusk
falls and she all
but grimaces at it,
rips out more hair,
waits for the sun
to **** her new skin,
she is *********
she is the unbearable
weight of standing
still while falling.
her eyes are not
blind, but she
keeps them shut
in fear that one
day they will be.
she is years of
sixteen, of sundays.
her hair is dark
but it reflects every
light she passes.
she will keep pounding
this pencil, examining
her fate, shifting blocks
around in hopes of
forming a circle. the
only thing enough
for her lies on
the other side of
the canyon, where
interstitial a
great danger looms.
she has been
falling
falling
falling
forever,
and one cannot
help but wonder
when her dear
havoc will end.
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 12:46 AM UTC
"I will create as I speak."
<>
these profound and most serious of words,
vibrate within my chest (really!) as I
tongue test them, having just awoken
and a Sabbath ~Saturday looms before me,
naked and full of
potential.
I am hopeful, and unafraid, by the clean sheet of twenty four hours that covers me nearly toes to head, a singular occurrence,
normative
would be dread of the shroud of lists of items of urgencies that demand outage justifyingly,
urgencies crying out,
attend to me now!
but this day different, a sleepy peacefulness
compromises my interstitial spaces, and an amber color of
calming quiet fills them, no raucous splashes,
no errant droplets hinting at the fullness-yet-to-come
when the tanks of
empty are quietly, with a silent sigh of finality, announce the profundity of sufficiency and satisfaction facing
undefined emptiness,
that these contradictory sensations are
harmonious extant
within me for the foreseeable momentary.
Dai!
this single syllable Hebrew word for “enough,” issued in one breath, like “the end!” hits me with a slap of sensibility as a closing lid on this just about to possibly boil *** of emotions and internal combustion.*
two last thoughts burr me mind before signing off:
the contradictory nature of the blanket of
an unscripted openness of a day ahead, and the
totality of its fulsome satisfaction it offers,
do not confuse me.
no scholar I, it occurs that the word Dai,
unlike any other, has a root unknown to me,
but internet of godlike humans had anticipated my query and offers me irony and reassurance that I am so not the first to wonder and know this satisfying confliction of this two headed Hydra send-story, sensatory, balanced imbalance
for the root of this common word used daily to say:
“enough,” “stop,” or “that's sufficient.”
comes from the root is DaWaH דוה which literally means
“to flow or extend outward.”
and though
I created this poem as I spoke,
I only reiterate what my ancestors already knew
thousands of years ago!
by the bye,
the Hebrew phrase "I will create as I speak,”
is well and better known to you as:
Abracadabra.
Dai!
Feb 3, 2024
Feb 3, 2024 at 8:40 AM UTC
Who we are not, weathers through time
be it by water, wind, will or wine.
Gazing into the talus of our becoming
Amidst the course, drifts the fine.
Our purpose is to bear the breeze
With lips to cup, till weakened knees
Besotted within a life between
Pre-eternal, post eternity.
Thirsting through our body’s gristle
flows the milk beneath the thistle
you, true content sans container
Are pulsing spirit, interstitial.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 6:15 PM UTC
Reading between between the lines,
the shadow zone of interstitial spaces,
the quiet and rhythm
separating sentences,
I senced that your yesterday's day
was one,
that given a choice,
you would not choose to repeat.
I repeat this feeling guilty
that I failed you
by knowingly remaining silent.
Mar 1, 2012
Mar 1, 2012 at 10:55 AM UTC
Oh, weep for Adonais—he's undead!
And hath been, lo! these interstitial years!
Yellow and black and pale and hectic red,
His cockney mood consumptively careers.
Upon a bubbling Hippocrene he's drunk
And dreaming, standing tiptoe on the brink
Of the wide world that sinks (Byron's a punk)
As love and fame to nothingness do sink.
An anguished autumn wind doth howl a HOWL
Of abject grief that sweeps the graveyard's stones.
The creeping moon observes the downy owl
That eats a mouse from tail to skull and bones.
Zombie Allan Poe, who's green and obscene,
Is sobbing, "Happy Birthday Halloween!"
Oct 31, 2024
Oct 31, 2024 at 12:59 PM UTC
got caught in this small, fine-crafted world:
with half-moon indents below flittering
eyelids, with new rotation about iris,
embers under cloud sprawl, bloodshot from
later
on in the night. with reveries hung out,
with sharp fog covering the evening: i
misplaced most sensibilities, i
clambered down from
this ridgeline, hope,
for god knows
whatever
reason. i
stood still, continually incapable of translation,
scrambling for word-count, the inside of my chest.
with new broken bones,
some impossible heaviness,
some insurmountable hopelessness:
soft poison, self-administrated;
i'll still climb back up, though,
given any fractional semblance of luck.
we've all been burnt, yeah,
but if you'd take this
half-exhausted charcoal splintering
heart in flax-woven basket up,
i will do my best, to
nurture your own back to
meadowlark wings your
breath takes flight upon, in
interstitial moments, as
your quiet lips
turn to smile& glow.
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 8:20 PM UTC
Extravagantly exorbitant mentality panacea
Pretentious eidetic’s ubiquity mnemonics
Extraversion embezzlement extortion mens rea
Endergonic laconic cacophony phonics
Preterite rendition enclitic equilibrist motion
Mystic symbiosis dharma spiritual sky
Brusque macabre abjections the gist of the potion
Straight up forever ontology on high
Obdurately abstruse vituperatively vociferous
Juxtaposition apparition myriad avarice
Orotund sonorous diction complicitous
Multifariously versatile nefarious nemesis
Mirador bartizan phantasmagoria aesthetics
Guidon gyration excursion integration
Sorcerous alchemizing interstitial endemics
Chaos charisma objectified tribulation
Conjurous apothegms clitoral apomixis
Exude emote surrogate extrapolation
Astral projection littoral hypotaxis
Kinetic supremacy homogeneity gravitation
Coercible coalescent cohesion dexterities
Adjunct conjunction conjecture acuity
Platonic pragmatic prosaic austerities
Extemporaneous impromptu innuendo fortuity
Propinquity habitation harbinger spectra
Perplexing paradox tenacity rostra
Intensely cogitational abstract mantra
Penumbral exigency , umbrage per contra
Theoretical incursion grandiloquent ne plus ultra
Exogamy of homoplasy sic itur ad astra
Quiescent serendipity surreal anestra
Jul 15, 2021
Jul 15, 2021 at 9:18 PM UTC
Let water fall
forlorn down,
cascade sorrowful
past perpetual loss
sourced from wellsprings
that saturate pinnate lines
and sustain interstitial spaces
of silent missensed mourning.
Let sensate streams buoy
and suffuse afresh to rise
fertile, fecund, fulfilled.
Now wash the withered
and woeful
past away.
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 10:41 AM UTC