You took the knife out of my hands, told me I was worth your time and pursuit for my smooth bones encased in the marbled meat of the season.
Death dreams under the cerulean sky, poolside sun never sets on skin skin settles for the sun sunscreen caught in the cracks carvings etched in blood the pool, the palms, the widespread sky sometimes paradise withholds hatches spare limbs and stumps lost my mind when I took a dip a lifetime …
we have known death to be an accident,
but you fondle my grandfather
like a monsoon swiping its knuckle
against the blue cavernous mouth
Curious as a small boy I crept after him one of these small mornings without him knowing and watched him from a grove of fragrant trees take in the shore and the sea and the edge of the world unfold before him and it was then I knew. My father loved the sea most of all.
Stillwater, MN. we ripped stockings into veils for a bruise wrapped lace around each finger, counting glitters painting one another gold in sweet roughness. every first Monday we would explore caverns behind the attic shelf, read spells off music sheets sweep dust into sculptures and write them into song. and when the Midwest …
untitled a handwritten sympathy card, delivered to her front door. her slender hands are flaky because the sadness has aged her, not the years. the phrase “she will never be the same” is crude, but she has no desire to break the surface. she’d rather take a knife to her own brain, creating bite-sized pieces of the torment, especially for us to taste. …
You found me with a whale stoned & poisoned
in my stomach & stars had crusted my eyes for days.