Tag Archives: dark
Remember when we were kids and we’d sometimes have sleepovers and listen to the dark together? That’s what you called it, Anya, listening to the dark. Sometimes we’d pretend to be camping. We’d make a tent on my bedroom … Continue reading
The porchlight in one’s personal heaven is always on, solace through staid aureole for orphans wandering heartsick in the dark.
The quiet net of one’s fingers, mute and aggrieved, yet lapping volumes of light, a measureless brood husking the dark to derive a glean, its rivet bound to the commonest plight.
At the wound’s core, dark luscious ravels of text, courting, inviolate measures, the fathomless brood of Beauty’s End.
Get on with your dying, Coyote urged. It is time. I was scared. I was scared of the unknown. I was scared of letting go. Scared of dissolving my identity. Who would I become? That is the nature of metamorphosis, … Continue reading
She swallows stones, or is made to—what feels like a martyred plunge of boulders. I am, by proxy, crushed. Is this what is meant by god-dam? The circulatory flush of light to dark dammed, and no god gets in … Continue reading
I. I have begun to name and catalogue the different types of dark. It helps. Warm-dark, cave-dark, void-dark, womb-dark, sleep-dark, Eros-dark, blank-dark, siege-dark, and there is the anonymous dark that gets in your head and behind your eyes and in … Continue reading
Within the plum-dark consciousness of God’s mysterious mind, Stars tells stories of unsung psalms seeded piercingly bright.
Through a glass, darkly, splitting of selves by prism– Wide berth for one’s I.
By exacting standards, I have held myself aloft, bated, the invocation to surrender, in bald tatters, now tags me to move, in rapport with grace, into suppler imaginings.