Tag Archives: sea

Foam

Collect her broken bones, her sea-washed cortege, and sentences of charged glimmer, and pay close reverence to where the slow, reedy breath of the pearl steams the shell of its host, and when the time is right, just right, kiss … Continue reading

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Breeze

More erotic dreams about the girl from the sea– Longing, rimmed with salt

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Unwrit

I fall in love too easy with phantoms and projections, spectral imprints that pool twilight in their arms for a living. Where people are not, I find myself digging and searching, clawing profusely at beautiful stones until my nails are … Continue reading

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Glistening

It is sudden, this life, a billowing pop-up tent for the quick and the dead. And how true that, its frayed denouements of thread lead you back and back again through that labyrinth, its spool of yarn the ravels of … Continue reading

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Mount

To sire a riptide, the roseblood moon, fully engorged, sank lower and lower, its binding navel grazing the lattice mouth and lacy tease of a sea forever beckoning softly creased light to charge and mount.  

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Trail

My stubborn when growing sawteeth fierce as fuck rails against the moon and sun and sea and me bracing that double-edged notion to have to hold in trying to shape the music of air into something that leaves behind a … 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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Perigee

It cannot be held in tongues, the veering arc of this perigee, ice-hot moon, rounded, throbbing to full, lightly crushing the sea’s glittering fount of lace.          

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Froth

There was pulsing, and founting, the sea caked around her ankles like silky ribbons of froth. It was just a dream, but still I found her, throbbing through dawn.

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Jean Rhys

You held the islands in your eyes, where it rained and rained and then the sun warmed wet to a wafting hiss. This Jean, you, the feline slink, filigreed shock, and sinewy comb of whitelaced waves ruffling upon puttied blobs … Continue reading

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