histories
Midnight's crows crowd the bedroom, perching on plastic picture frames Their wings sing lullabies, as they crochet their wooly caws into a tapestry of sleep, black feathers fill my fragile dreams
a woman found an aniseed among some withered recipes inside: recumbent fantasies Of gray days swelled with ecstasy
No one sees the sun the same some notice shadows some the glow floating in between damask curtains lenses pinpointing the here now today maybe some regard its power as a threat fretting ultraviolet infrared gamma? mamas mostly smearing white chemical wool over the backs of …
Tonight the creek sits high in its bed
He grinned like a wolf
the bright soldiers unarm me brash asters charm me hardly stable, full of will their starry lies sigh sorry frilly gifts mar me like Bacardi; it’s all thrill sharpened edges may harm me your errant army disarms me, alarms me still
Follow me to furloughed fields, to cities fitted ‘round a sea less salty. S'there we'll start our garden. I’ll blast far ‘neath flagstone for you; till a trillion seedlings strewn by starlight; foster future forests. This is my first attempt at a drottkvaett for April's poetry slam. Read more great fiction and poetry by clicking the badge above!
It starts bright as lemons fresh cream churned to butter love's weight in our hands promising golden We stitch our lives slowly and dye the joined fabrics our saffron turmeric mustard future Fluid and so fragile we pack our love away like a yolk in its shell waiting to break The whites of your …
