Tuesday, October 10, 2017

paper cuts

i kept your love folded as a
letter in my heart
i felt the edges creased with the
warmth of your wrist,
traced the ink with my finger
right before i let the charred bits
fly from my palm to a breeze

my heart holds both a furnace and a grave
where i buried you with flames


if i said i miss you, what does that make me?
I'm still angry at you. but I still love you
somewhere in my heart.



k.e.
if you see this, tell me.

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Still
Blare a song and a story
They hear me I
Thump across the quarry of
Lost ships
graveyard of stars left a
Trench of old coughing energy
Tired balls of light coiled up in a
chest like unused yarn
Stepped across creaking wooden floors
Groaning corridor of a hoarder, hoarse
trees summoning a history of wounded
falling. Thick fruits of withered seeds, how
did you grow so full, ask the moon a
question only to be denied by the clouds,
loud living only sounded as a rasping drum
but echoes up and down the body. Cavern
of spirits dance the paintings on rock,
sleeping the solstice yet stepping from sky
to stone. Turn home and alone
Again
Turn home and alone

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

˚˚d1r£çt1øns

endless nomad of the stars
traversing a desert of dark,
keep your compass on north upon
the scores of light
///20 lightyears ahead -->
constellation trail
. . .• .•˚˚˙˙∆˚ •¶§∞¢£¡œ∑´®†¥¨ˆøπ“‘…¬˚∆˙©ƒ∂ß˚¬∆˙©ƒ∂ßßåΩ≈ç√∫˜µ≤ ☆☆
☆☆

☆☆☆



☆☆☆

spacedrift

amnesiac ache
i wish to have died sooner
in a life i cannot yet
remember

as if
as if

...

a pause
silence crystalizing
a fractal of galaxies sad yet
blooming

spinning shards of memory
wrapped around the nebulas like
an unfolded blanket
i am an unmade bed, patched
with dark and light yet
filled with holes that leak
my inner fabric

a far off home?
i cannot see

Saturday, January 7, 2017

I count the cost of
living
Barter my many corners of
existing
Christ calling on the
forsaken to forsake but
the cross of flesh was
bruised

In the twilight, I am blue mixed with
blood
In the night I am a silver swollen sadness

I sleep sound in the grace of
empty, both a hollow feel and
reign-less steering
Coarse around the edges like a
lump on a potter's wheel,
except I am folding like a landslide
slipping into myself as I crumble
Cast your stones among the
lessers, leprosy of the mind
limbs loose and lesion'd
As a leech you
seek your love from the
chronic lonely

Liken the lowly
a mirror of downward glances
glass that breaks then
fractures the image
inhuman but feeling