Wrist in the woodlanddying alone inmarcescence © 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
the boney moon, dragged by hibiscus over the red hills.Your moth wings baby-rattling the drowning of the stars, the symmetry of our skeletons for asylum; the moon, she finds my darkness by the Katsura leaves. The atramental vagary of her lays in my hands. psithurism, algedonic to the death strokes when she flutters, how she [...]
with the last flower, traveled and scrawled from our mind—across the sun. the moon cracks and reddens as death comes to stardust. ebony époque hikes to the yellow tourniquets; and in-utero shells, plasma glass, her eyes are mine; maniac moon devours the limb to the stars clotted in bones/rocks. I dream between the blood from [...]
sea foam / moonrise / troughs of white petals / revivalist skulls of breath from a blistered wind / I lied on the floor / the window had twig elbows / the ancient fall, I bled white like the ants on the window-ledge. I tire; tree fingers tie their umbilical cords onto the late birds; [...]
in a ghost of the moon; archaic dreams cross the ocean; idled mind the hawthorn spume and Earth’s red moon, estranged to the headstone fare to ash-heaps and dissociation down the bones of beanstalk and the ghost, the moon, reddened mirrors of ourselves to feet of God, light lies to paralyze the Earth, an insect [...]