Tag Archives: rebirth
In the softest pit of my belly, the masticating angel, the glowing renegade with milkbone teeth, eats me alive, and spits me back out into the world, half-light, half-silence, the happy miscarriage of identity winnowing the essential me from I. … Continue reading
You can feel it in the air, a razory sheen, all the childhoods that were lost or stolen or seized or buried to model catacombs and secret lairs, are returning to the surface bigtime, the reclaimants growing new teeth and … Continue reading
It is hard to believe, but after years and years of clawing with bitten nails, and digging with torn palms, in the heart of a stone she found the babybluest wisps of cloud, soft nimbus music, to which she tendered … Continue reading
To follow your bliss you must kiss your demons squarely on their mouths lancing their sealed lips with a flaming tongue perpetrating tango between worlds where love consumes every last thorny bit.
The warring, within, ended. No one won. White flags, adorning the masts of souls, became the rage and pacific vogue. Ghosts kissed demons, demons kissed children, children blew kisses into the air, christening echoes. I woke up, sudden to my … Continue reading
Hope, that thing unfettered, soul’s window flung open, to bask, to air myself, unabated, no past to claim or follow.
Uprooted, prevailing agony folds the pagan nymph to a distant within; her position, untenantable, will alter according to blood-new spates of reign, coursing undisclosed seasons. (Photo by Anne Brigman)
Rebirthing, within fathomless hues, beyond the opaque rim, and vanishing, someone waits to claim your life anew.
I tell myself stories in the dark, Anya. Whether or not they help is either of primary consequence or none at all. Sometimes you have to walk through the boneyard in order to reach the garden. This what I tell … Continue reading
Psychically dismembered since birth, Grace walked her palms to her feet, and prayed that everything lost, in between, would return ritually transfigured.