embers

The air is gold, dripping gold with petals full of suffocation.  It is the tendrils of sunflowers, the buds caked inside of centrioles, ashes piling up to form catalysts. Our aura is a wretched one

suffocation

There's a type of suffocation in those rays, clouded and matted and burning up soil, hellfire licking ash into my throat. It's disgusting. I crave for it, my lungs are full of it.

soliloquy

I am constantly influenced by the thought of you missing me. One week or eighteen minutes ago. Do you wonder what I am doing? Are your thoughts full of me even though you constantly deny me? I am full of it, bursting at the seams, wondering if you are thinking of me. It is a…

poet

It is a terrible thing, being a poet. I find myself being in place of the dead, the cheater, the nectar and its lover. My soul is not one, but an inter-dimensional shape that is constantly changing forms. I am all at once a man and a woman. I have no gender. I am a…

Apollo’s Lyre

You come in sevens and tens leaving   me on fours, all accounted for and attuned  Hieroglyphic fingers, and that string   is a yolk stretching my limbs on crossbars  The space in between is my heaven  laurels and wreaths, and you, my god 

capturing Venus

She only comes alive when spring is near.   When light drips Aurelian, the air looking of primrose. It makes one think of rolling waters, bronzed buds; dampened moonbeams sculpted on torsos, her planted mounds atop my flesh. She badgered me with peach-stricken kisses, claret curls of her tongue. Smothering me until I was blue and…

cut

A slick and clean nick of the skin, horrified brown eyes.   She is hurting for you, but you relish in that red. Cold water sizzling on tormented flesh   A flap of dilapidated prints melded with iron. One quick stroke of the ragged metal was all it took   All it took for you…

rack and the screw

I, myself, forgot I even existed.  I have attached meaningless things to my name, filled my home   with unwanted trinkets, neglected memories. But I have not forgotten you.   Those sunken eyes. I’d have killed myself trying to see you again, in that sluiced town   which held nothing but murky waters. The name is one I’d become familiar…

but colorless. Colorless

I avoid mirrors at all costs. I cannot stand the sight of her, the way she looks. Those ghastly hips and foul teeth, sunken lids with irises the color of contaminated mold. She writhes and speaks such nonsensical things, I do not understand her. She does not understand her. A twenty five year old placenta,…

two cycles of Hades

You wither under these blue skies, as if anything more coruscating than that black beacon of death will hurt you. I admire you because of it; how your coating seems infinitely polished when icicles are writhing, waiting to impale your flesh. That sweet kiss of rime nestling in your roots, halting crimson orbs in their…

Bemini, glistening

She’s fierce in the way that she takes-   stoic face, with eyes like the reddened sun. Glossy and deep, leading to two trenches on her cheeks, that could swallow you whole if need be. Like it’s the only way you can breathe, like it’s the only way that you can see. Sea tides fall…

the lover

It is unsightly the days you visit. Unwelcomed and perturbed, but invigorating it is. Your jealousy rearing its ugly head at my ephemeral bliss, your claws are never subtle. They are beautiful and ragged, jarring scratches on my heart. It is you dragging me by the roots of my hair, leaving my toes barely grazing…

seventeen

Twenty five years and what have you done?  You are still just a little girl, a little girl  afraid of the world. Terrified of being lost, invisible   to the world that already doesn’t know who you are.  You do not exist to them, and it’s so pitiful you think so.    When I see you- …

eris

I am burdened by the thought of you, you with your four-letter word,  pinpricks under the skin. It is calamus and brine. No real  appeal to the endearment aside from the fact that you rip the soul apart- limb from limb. You are a fate worse than death. Holding  figures on red threads, the promise of that…

miles in between

  For both of us... We just seemed to act like nothing happened, like what we had didn’t exist; and I realized it was easier that way. It was easier to act as if we weren't one, like we didn’t live on the same plane of existence- didn’t care about the miles that were clogged…