There is no longing here, so the trees are silent. Responsible for murder, responsible for theft. Spirits dulled float, meander. Trace them to the thinnest membrane of potential, trace them to the beckoning immortality. Compulsion is your tether, rendered and rendered and rendered to obsoletion. Don't surrender the zenith of salvation, don't surrender your own redemption.
Thursday, September 9
Imagination is chasing. There is magic here, undiscovered by me, I am sure. Living in beauty and not the depths and constraints; the death of imposition! I am for the light that marches, dances as I walk. In an arpeggiated air, the furthest from the humanity I see. You scar the face of purity. Your shadow obscures reflection, there is no place for innocence.
What is innocence to you?
Monday, May 10
I hope there is clarity in the throes of hindsight and recollection. I hope you are where the lacuna is most luring, there to salvage me from the hollows of dejection and denial.
I hope you are here now, to show me that I am nobody. Please show me I am nobody.
Saturday, May 8
You fade in the light, I used to too, but that was long ago.
Wednesday, April 14
You fade in the light, I used to too, but that was long ago.
Tuesday, April 6
The essence of all purity swept into, this vortex of darkness and dust broken into, the call of the falling. The truth and the gift torn apart, a cadaver, gaunt, spectral effigy, and alone. Alone, alone alone. The primer of being, undone. We aren't all running, we are some falling behind, being left behind, some waiting to be salvaged. And yet the redemption is all that I once had, all that I lost, flooding back, flooding back into me.
Sunday, January 10
Come with me into the rain
They were as they were when they promised Immortality they belonged to him. They were as they swore to the seasons of nothing that remained. Concrete black, flowing, and ever still, folding upon the endless ashes of eternal summer. Frozen, and the maker of motion, joyous motion. They were as they fell upon sudden darkness, stumbling in beauty. All the light in a flourish, sweeping the air and folding the inevitable laugh of love.