Tag Archives: Light
Girl, I will write you for a long, seething bask, Light seeks its own level. Advertisements
Remember me to the ease of light, its pause and passage, we are not long for this earth, which swallows us, and our lovetagged bones, as a matter of natural course and radical recomposition, all the gifts, and hopes unwound … Continue reading
There are no promissory notes in life, there are fugitive scraps upon which we can opt to scribble our heart’s mind, and most tender sublime, tatters registered to light’s lilting slant, granting us grace from unexpected angles.
Slotted between worlds, a living wake, whitefulness encroaching like a milkspreading cape of ocean, the requisite baffle and glare, It must be the angels riding in mounted on Mercy, you think, and you wait for them to turn the corner, … Continue reading
Sometimes, even the light, in its radiant parry and thrust, needs to be laid down, in order to receive, openly, the starried lull of brokenness.
We, the intermediaries, the gilded abeyance, between holy fire and dreamless wake, we, each and every one, corpuscles, tendered to print in God’s colossal palm.
Silence, the lighted bidding to know my own heart, to take a chance on every last fretted me I neglected to face, or boldly mention, to sow gaping closure with intent.
The last time I fornicated with an angel my porchlights blew and we became tranluscent sheets of merger rising above a glassy pool of chartreuse reflecting in cursive the lighted gist of our holy remains. God, I’m open to another … Continue reading
Mercy Street runs lengthwise to the sun. Its soul, to orient, turns its nearest cheek to flaring palms.
Renegade angel, pissing golden light, to be obscene not herded.