I realize.

I know it isn’t on purpose – the way you tell me the opposite of what you mean, the way you tell me to stay away from you more, because you need space – the way you tell me I get on your nerves. There is no way out of this cycle and I’m feeling […]

Building

My hands feel fragile, but they’re what I was given to work with, skin and sweat separating my blood from the water. I want to draw our lines, connect them on this mercurial plane, and the ghost of their symmetry is haunting me tangibly, brushing across my lips like the breath you expel and the […]

Sundreams.

Your eyelids press against my lips, and I wake up to your breath on my neck, your eyes flitting frantically through some dream or another. The covers are tangled, the sun is shining, and I can’t tell what time it is since the mornings have started coming sooner and sooner, and I move slowly, deliberately, […]

The hypocrisy of love. Scrap.

The wild things’ eyes have a touch of the dead about them; the eyes are just a mechanism; feeling lies in the skin and the rest of the body. They lack the soul that people try instilling into them; they lack the hypocrisy of love. It’s the same look I saw in the eyes of […]

Wind Scrap.

The wind was water, flowing through the streets with such force that my breath caught in hands at my throat; I could not breathe. And indeed my lungs were unclasped hands laid broad and searching, my heart kept time with the breeze, tapping gently as it ate away at my held breath, a tightened fist […]

And Summer laid.

Summer started creeping in after the fresh bloodiness of December and January, taking hold of the dark roots and turning them to snakes below the grass, sinking gently into ice’s glass, biding its time and teaching the threshing floors and ships’ hulls to yearn for its coming and strengthen it. Spring is the gentlest of […]

Pay no mind.

I find myself watching the pebbles in the concrete, counting the myriad of moving red specks, larger brown ones, tiny ants. I feel an inheritance of something welling in my hollow chest, a feeling I never had a name for, an aching that does not come from anywhere that I know of. I thread my […]