Tag Archives: poem

Foreplay

Posted on September 7, 2026 by John Biscello

i liked her best wrapped in gloaming and told her so she smiled and said i needed better metaphors or lesser ones if i hoped to undress her where silence mattered most.

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Say What

Posted on September 7, 2026 by John Biscello

Every sentence alleges an ending, or feigns the solace of completion, yet the wholly unsaid caved under the tongues of lovers becomes sacral content, running on and on to no known climax, only hunger lingually revised.

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Room for Two or More

Posted on September 7, 2026 by John Biscello

Touch as the residing magnetic compass and Braille for lovers in a dark eyeless room, or, the scale value of myopic intimacy through fucks graciously given.

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Lush Life

Posted on September 7, 2026 by John Biscello

Conundrum to my common ache and feted fevers, place me under your tongue’s secrets for safekeeping, and the cherished prospect of going down like hard candy in a throat closing to darken the rent of rapture from lush.

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Domain

Posted on September 7, 2026 by John Biscello

Her body, a puzzling slate and feral dominion suspended erringly between there and not, and I, tonal witness to the intimacy of her absence, function by rounded turns at a loss for words– Silence, the lasting grammar of ruins and … Continue reading →

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Mystique

Posted on September 6, 2026 by John Biscello

There’s something blankly paranthetical about the ghosts of memory which become us in breaths taken to host and devour.

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Story

Posted on May 27, 2026 by John Biscello

Within the alchemy of gist and wonder resides the evergreening lush dark center of stories through which the self rivets its fluid course.

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Habitat

Posted on May 27, 2026 by John Biscello

Behind the ghosts further ghosts calling. Possession by layered turns and takes evincing quantum roles through which we inhabit.  

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Enclosure

Posted on May 27, 2026 by John Biscello

In the longaching aria and grain of Memory, its mortuary and refrain, the gauzy calling of ghosts— Follow our bodiless drift and want, they monotone in lo-fi chorus— Enclosure, by softly rounded turns, resetting your edited                         self to sync … Continue reading →

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Residual

Posted on May 27, 2026 by John Biscello

Memory aligning spectral residue and gauzy embers, slow-drifting motes and emissaries of Time’s passage, moving from nowhere to nowhere, and swallowing whole worlds in the process.

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