I do not say I love you, but I notice how your fingers twine and wrap around empty, tracing broken circles in the air when you are nervous. I do not say I love you, but there is a spot … Continue reading
Nutrition fact: Did you know that windows like to eat writers who diet on silence and dust-motes, they swallow the writers whole, or in fragments, devouring them slowly, ever so slowly, until all that remains is a ghost, where a … Continue reading
Moses, caped in shroud, awaiting new commandments– Silence, turned up loud. (Photo by Edward Steichen)
If, in words I found you wanting, lean to perish, would silence bestow a second, surer opinion?
It has finally come, bearing a fount of bruised petals, blood-pink and white and reigning silvered silence, the year the meek inherit the earth, the plight of sensuous souls flown within to claim tenderest grace on loan from God’s rimless … Continue reading
The ongoing rabble and cinematic narrative in my mind is finding how nourishing and full and tender the heart can grow steeped in silence alone.
Perfectly still dog, robed in dust; birds, choral and bright, flutter and thrash in needle-comb trees; I, this side of dream, trespass lightly.
Drum over me God, I am water under the bridge, threaded with silk and sewn with bones flowing, undammed, into the percussive folds of a liquid body, my name and past ceded to babbles of foam upon a colossal, quivering … Continue reading
Hear the bleached creaking, of chafed slats upon silence– Winter’s lullaby.
