every morning is terror both that you may love me and that you may not.
have you read clouds since we were children? the hands of god once reached from heaven and i denied - stating without pause i would not leave you in this hell. hallways of smoke and buildings of ash. atmosphere dead as moon.
tattoo stars onto my shoulders so i remember the night of your birth.
chronophobia. chromophobia. life should be lived like a polaroid print:
without falter in grace.
11:21 pm • 22 August 2012
(six word memoir)
and, oh, love, continually disproving thyself…
exercise from creative writing class today
11:08 pm • 22 August 2012
play the piano like
i would your back
every note adolescent
11:02 pm • 22 August 2012
how many seasons will you breathe: II
wine glass nights and sharp aches
plague you equally (wishing
to destroy you, because you are
perfect). those constellations above
pull the strings hooked in your arms -
11:36 pm • 18 August 2012
how many seasons will you breathe: I
you are like the breath of summer:
a warm, slow breeze and endless
fingers running across the back
of a woman’s neck - feeling her
movements within your own.
11:31 pm • 18 August 2012