Tag Archives: Stars
Remember when we were kids and we’d sometimes have sleepovers and listen to the dark together? That’s what you called it, Anya, listening to the dark. Sometimes we’d pretend to be camping. We’d make a tent on my bedroom … Continue reading
I get so sleepy and restless and roiled and charged. If only they knew what they called world was simply a clusterfuck of particles dreaming of dance partners.
Orion’s numinous belt undone on the sly by Cassiopeia’s nimble, flaring digits, as he proceeds to enter her whorling sphere of glacial fire spread lightly to produce cosmic aaaaaahs and oooohs, while the green-eyed Moon, papal and robust, records the … Continue reading
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.
Of myself and stars, he sang in forked, unsigned tongues– Words his place-holder.
Ancestral traces of us, unbearably light– Infinite wonder.
Star-rise, to the belt of dawn, we have been sworn in by Love’s chastened edge
Stars, the luminous freckles on God’ night-face, or angelic winks from afar, lovingly rendered by a painter named Vincent who bore clearly his scars with exquisite faith.
Rupture in the night, sharp crescent benediction– every fool hooked.
Portrait of a gaze, fixed to a remote star, caving– Form follows distance.