our ghosts accompany loneliness… mirrors of distant memory find to the dusk like at sea a memento in a dream that eludes me and floats… Orange blossoms into Ophelia’s violets and the granitic rocks rush to the red dust for how quietly time has passed through the statuary of rock and forked poppies with leaves of loss it’s … Read More our ghosts.
tread for days blood pours in a drowning diving into oceans. A murmur in the stillness of the sea absent in the lunula white, weeping in the dying of the eventide may you decide to leave as the crawfish float in unyielding waters, delusional, still seeking the innocence of the rock, give it a kiss for me before … Read More once a tree stood.
Wept in the death of Gods, darker still in the gathering ocean, with only tears that fall to them, in the red hyssop of the frost inclined to the penetralium of desire, as the ocean slips no fate by its sea song to kill empty, the abscission of leaf falls like glass we could not fall together as we once had, the very shock … Read More Planetary motion.
Of one memory, one for the end of the dark does not lie, I will not lie in it; darkness perfused I shut the window; here he bleeds, here he lies, though nothing is there. In furrows, mercy, it is laughable. The Earth succinct in waves in a lonely larva the dead poet’s dreams. Stand under my umbrella, we embrace in impassioned poverty of … Read More A sea becomes.
The sea and mind in gelid movement acquiesces to the euphoria in the distant laughter of gradual woven lines of darkness; let it die a thought in the consciousness of bare winter after dark and dark a derangement in the cold falls inside glistening we’re hiding in the silence; I hide within my mind. No promises of mine … Read More no promises.
It would always end this way. The onslaught of the cold bites in my face raking silence to the foreshore to the leave-taking of winter pleas with sorrow and penances alone That trace abandoned into neurological thoughts, into weaves of ice that coalesces the ambrosial sunset (in which that dies) in father’s sea. It transmits into my eyes as my tears start to slip … Read More I moved in the effervesce of the sea. (Prose)
Turn away from the resuscitations there the dream warrants the saplings, she in the lithology of life, the posies leach in mother’s touch, stands retracted in the tears from the ocean, weeping in the enchant as I feel the shame of the eventide; the last breath to the inhabited throes of the shore if swallowed in the vanity of torpor, a slumber to the … Read More Let it die.