Tag Archives: ache

Mystery

It’s strange how you can miss someone you’ve never met as if the ache bears a secret history exclusive to its own sense of mystery and rivet. Advertisements

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Ghostlight

It could be like this. Early morning, light milkpooling at the edges of your bed, dawnfrost bleaching your bare feet and subtly wriggling toes softly phantom, and I follow the erogenous ghost past your shins, to the rounded pate of … Continue reading

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Outlet

Kiss my shame, she said, the moistened outlet to my sealed-in history, run your tongue, but gentle now, gentle, over my heart-shaped booboo, make it sing, as if the moon, a secret maestro, was drawing the most beautiful notes from … Continue reading

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Braid

How quickly we forget the nearness of grief, and remember, with rated thorns, a past nettled to braid.

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