A Gift – Consistently Cared For.
Category: Death
too far from here
bear the arid flatness
tempore vanitatis
measure the passing of our existence
sunless solstice
celestial cycles don’t control all darkness.
hold on tight
factory-installed
strata
“feel the feels” a friend affirmed, and deeply dug did I.
worthless gods
If only Coleridge had given Okeonos to that Mariner of olden days…
not dead yet.
Do they ever stop breathing?
mocked by numbers
Build Me! Your unseeing eye squints in condescension
It’s Coming.
into her cavernous gullet everything goes.
whistling in the graveyard
flesh-stripped scaffolding sharply buttress a new kind of body.
Devestation – #SoCS
Light always turns away darkness.
September
Summer still nips at the heels; that playful puppy.
Flesh on Bone
Stones/Bones/Lifeless Zones
Vesuvius
it came upon us way too fast / some ran to life, we chose to hide.
Sonnet III – What Was and Ne’er Will Be
the door before me bids me walk on through, but pieces – grief and anger – won’t allow.
slow dance
she tends with love. dirt-covered hands - still painful – cleansing the insides, to her soul’s very depths, as only fertile soil can.
Wayfarer
Wayfaring sounds romantic, but wander too long, you may get lost.
don’t even try (the cult)
Don’t ever think / unless MY think you think.
June 30
and now July can come to me /
my soul no more disjoint, it’s free
