the prostitute and the mania of a waning MoonI start writing the words black notebook and pen likebutter on biscuits steaming from the oven quick slidthe ease of melt where a mouth fitslike it does a kiss just remember this is whywe close our eyesto se…
closing the epilogue ticket window and every question lingerslike a seed waiting for answers in cycles of the rainingpaint from ceilingsdisguised as skiesI only know to come herewhen I am thirstywith just my soul in towbagging life with what my h…
what the rain couldn’t hear was time is a mistress of moreGoddessriddling the windwith her tongues on our clockscarvingour dark beginsour peel scraped endsour molecules thinned enough to birth light ineach element of usin all the spacethat elect…
staining the exitsthe house is all ghosts and no bonesas if pall-bearing death itselfwill watch the wind all day take my breath intothe quiet that tapping keysgives birth tomy every unknownmy every outcome my every lovemy every stonethrown in wishesat …
feeding the dark hemssack-cloth rivers watch timestacking each carvedclearly identifiable featurethe Sun can sell of youto pair gravity withrise the probabilities by the day and flood the outcomesin the languagesof dreams at nighttell de…
