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Literature Text
of the mist whispers and
soggy willow branches
above the werewolves and
jasmine flower blossoms-
niched to brown liquid
flowing in veins and
the half-smile of the moon;
dragonfly eyed and hickory
wings sailing the milky
way until the sun crack
lulls reality into
day
soggy willow branches
above the werewolves and
jasmine flower blossoms-
niched to brown liquid
flowing in veins and
the half-smile of the moon;
dragonfly eyed and hickory
wings sailing the milky
way until the sun crack
lulls reality into
day
Literature
Passing Ships
It was just like you to show up late. Honestly, it was just like you. It was the hottest day of the year so far and every green space was full of people trying to get their fix. Daylight junkies. When you live beneath grey clouds for most of your life it starts to take its toll and you take your highs where you can get them.
I was a bundle of nerves, as I always was when it came to you, picking at grass and trying to pretend that the fact you were late was totally cool. Instinct told me differently and I knew as soon as you graced me with your presence that things had changed. It was written all over your face - guilt, guilt, guilt - but I w
Literature
Latreuophobia
I wash off sick-sweet orange lipstick in front of a mirror as dusty as gothic romances. It tastes like oblivion, that is to say, like nothing my tongue can detect.
The door opens with a creak no private restroom could emulate. Some chick with blue bobbed hair and smeared eyeliner. I looked like that once. Ten years ago.
Getting the beer out of my hair is harder. Some men just can't take it when I'd rather they not kiss my feet or call me an angel or-
“Dayum girl, you look like a goddess.”
I gulp, taste of acid.
Literature
Before Daybreak
Couldn't sleep – 4 AM may be
Too early for coffee, but
The corner diner's open
At all hours, so I head
That way. Dickens, Green Mansions,
Shakespeare, bleak Russians – shadows
Can watch them for a while…
The night air's warm—a slow block
Of rain-sloshed concrete later
And I've made it. – Get dark roast
Pick a table not too close
To the counter, then sit back.
Watch life eddy around you...
Whoever sat here last must
Have dropped the tract—Jesus Saves.
We're story-weaving creatures.
This tale? It's nine-tenths thunder—
Granite certainty. Can't see
Much past my face. But who knows?
That might just
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4/30/13 NaPoWriMo Day#30
My late night ode to the last day~ Inspired by that project due tomorrow and it's one in the morning. (yay.) Also, by this lovely spoken word I have been procrastinating and listening to~ [link]
My late night ode to the last day~ Inspired by that project due tomorrow and it's one in the morning. (yay.) Also, by this lovely spoken word I have been procrastinating and listening to~ [link]
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