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August HaikusThe buzzards have fledged, swapping nests for summer winds screaming on new wings. You’re my thunder dusk following heat clogged daylight I pray for your fall. Leaf mulch and bare bark. Faith went the way of winter without spring for hope. I kept Autumn close, wrote to it with summer words- not that winter knew. You tracked mud footsteps across everything I own. You said “this is spring.” I must be clutter. Finding my way into rooms to watch you spurn Spring. Summer surprised us, trust England not to expect sunshine in July. We never measure the worth of just one rain-drop… just the water gauge. You and I keep score, this romance like grass tennis Ace down centre line. We have stopped speaking. It’s difficult to say why and you won’t explain.
GeminiI was born by the ramparts, lost arts, running from the ebbs and flows Convincing me that there were reasons that I couldn't let go I was born inside a lie that told me everything will happen for a reason Convinced I had to finish what I started, every season, barely breathing I was raised by a failure of a murder of crows, I plucked the roses As winter approached to see their beauty by me just before they're frozen I was raised to be a champion, sanctioned by a crown of thorns That knew me only as the victor, not a series of scorn, forlorn I fell in love with two butterflies to match, each one had vanished One fell 3 stories too hard, the other took advantage I fell in love with 4 forces, all contorting my skin and picking sides Realizing they're only with me during lows, not the highs I became a polymath, running laps to keep my head strong Even though I didn't understand that that what what was wrong I became a victim of higher pressures that I just didn't get Told that doing what I
Monkeyshines.All but deceived by the easy reception, i cry for the ambivalent column of bones that is softer than it is wide. He fattens me giddy with his wit sharper than my tongue, i am a Narcissus wilting against an abstract six foot seven. This is all not to discredit the epiphany realized as it stamped itself into the bathroom floor, all but made it to the bathroom mirror. This is all not to say i could swallow it; So i didn't, and i hid it as i danced on principle of amputated limbs, singing soporific hymns as encomia to my congealed pride. [Drink to me, i'm too young to drink to myself]. [Sing for me, i'm too low to sing for myself]. i nodded to his prodding, my cognac-coffee partage clawing cloyingly at his tuxedo sleeve; [look at me], [look at me], [look at me]. And their teeth retreated in the face of such stale charm, unsettled even after its rolling embellishment in my sleeping eyes. So floral am i, i cannot be seen in my fairytale hedging i have grown on the carpet of my mother's stone
cannibal snowflakeswatching madmen (and) eating fresh kills in the dark picking the carcass apart my hands halves of a euphemism the raw start of symbolism hearts unharmed are poems unwritten
Nighttime Ramblings and InsufficiencyYou drop your jaw, and you pull words out from hiding, deep in your throat. You wretch up a mass of unfiltered, unedited, reality because you believe that's what it is to be understood. You leave a trail of mutterings wherever you go no one will ever want me it's not enough and i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry Do you remember the difference between a shadow and a ghost? (the world ends the day the sun won't shine) Instead of sleeping (maybe tomorrow won't come if you don't say goodnight) you wait; you will not be remembered, and that is the scariest part- you were never loud enough. i'm so sorry The night presses too hard, pulling you down, even though you plead for one more day to prove you aren't just passing through. In the margins, you breathe:
The deforestation of a wild thing.You tear the curtains down and find that I am a funeral pyre in full swing. You learn that loneliness is nothing like emptiness, but a burning forest. Brightburnflames licking up my thighs and taking with them the kisses you lay there, and there and there. Will my deforestation strip my skin back to the taste of lovers old, their touches turned Midas-gold along the expanse of new pink skin? The curtains haven't burnt so you pin them back up on my collarbone wings and slide them closed to hide the damage. I burn the way unwanted things burn (green wood damp bark), I don't want to go but you've shut the fire in and my skin shrieks and blisters at your rejection.
susurrationvertebrae like rough marbles down my back, clacking back and forth as your finger strikes each in a row, coaxing a constellation from the fissures of my fresh sunken skin burrow/bury/betray (he made a home in a gap between two of my ribs and sometimes i feel him laughing at my heart murmur)
brightestsleep was more of a place than a state of being, a safe house or a padded cell, but i had always found it a rather weak substitute for oblivion. i didn't like to think about if i was reckless or if that worried you - i just knew that whether from fear or something worse, i always returned, & you were always waiting for me: you, or the ghosts that clung to the places you'd been. i was not present even as you guided me to the platform. you were treating me like a fracture, a fault line, shielding me with your body & coat from the sunlight & noise as we left for poland. you kept me existing but that was all, & so i did not open my eyes until the sun was sinking in the sky. the light pierced the windows & pierced my skin & burned me right out of a dreamless black so suddenly that i gasped. your hand covered mine like a muscle spasm & an apology dribbled from my mouth before i was conscious enough to understand