Tag Archives: silver

Corset

Posted on December 18, 2017 by John Biscello

In a vain attempt, she corseted herself in green wind and cellophane, votive to a thin whip of air. As she lay there, colors emptying to gray, before the round voices and fast hands came, she fell in and saw … Continue reading →

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Gypsy

Posted on November 4, 2017 by John Biscello

I have seen the stars travel in caravans at night, cursive gypsies aloft in God’s darkened mouth, the moon, a minted coin, or silver eyelet, peerless in its glint of visions and voice.

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Filigree

Posted on September 26, 2016 by John Biscello

And on the eighth day, gospel and inviolate, the Moon went on a bender, pouring silver chaste with salve, or, how the world, toddling due course, filigreed the necessary dark by grieving jointly.

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