leaving death of all silhouettes when the new moon born of lured tragedies outstretched to kill itself; the roots my shame winter of the flowers, if I loved, then they should fall to my feet in wastrel-fragility guiding memorial bones to the knees of the garden © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved. Reposted for the [...]
the moon is red / shutting / the tympani of the Apollo sun and the white flux of pumice stones / and scriptures in memory of the rabbi’s palaver; i, mind of woman, made from man and woman stardust, God if believed, slug and bone; embryos of fallen fingers; 5’3 no, 5’3 and a half [...]
Me reading "Metaphysical" 10.22.2020. Metaphysical places; mirrored minds; mooring across the broken bird, maybe the Madarasz’s tiger in its mournful lone,keep the arbored madnessin her untethered womb—swaddle the nest of the tree with aneurysmed red bodies of the moon salved with fingernail lines on the egg, her baby. The agitation of her veinsmakes me ask [...]
in the echoes to the moonrise and flowers they look like hand-bones, eclipsed into cursive cold-blooded writ; lucent dream a pilgrimed father at the seabed of darkness, his bones touch the skull-fish; the ghost of owl forgets his repetitions it holds its wings into the winter moon blood-red, it rooks the dying and the tree, [...]
Hello everyone.Remember that poll? 🦗...With the collaboration and challenge topics?🦗Well then. This is awkward. To recall, we had a poll to vote on for the next collaboration or challenge project. The topic that polled the highest was the worst sentence challenge. What else was interesting were the topics that tied in second place: the novel [...]
Here is the slumber Indulged in black tides Stood softly forever still. © 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
In the early dark, Intermingled stirs shake and shake Between the round uncertainty in the uprooted flesh, It is mid-winter where there are blue peacocks, And ringing dunes that carry onto the bearers of ice In our face like waves, receded with flickers That are evasive in our bones with ferity Void of discovering dreaming, [...]
Frayed dreams, the pathway, Strangers and passengers, Abandoned by the wind’s blow, As we emerge from the lit sky, Traveling from our stone-kissed feet, And if you stood, I’d have not gleamed From the abyss, From the fern, soaked with blood, Shattered in the daylight, love; I hear footsteps evoke the brush, And the fields [...]