Tag Archives: Van Gogh

Bask

Every last star ghosts its own holy rapture– we, a part of, bask. Advertisements

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In Stars

Behind starry veils, embers crackle blue and gold– You were there, dancing.

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Claim

She, bidden by valid tense, unhooked a claim of stars, and lighted her grief, inverting the symmetry of arc.

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Torch Song

The aureate secrets of silence, stuff stars are made from, and us, cocooned in gauzy slumbers, wink and blink and nod till well-scored we become cinders in a torch song, long-since faded.

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Van Gogh, Wheat Field

It is what you might call omen-brushed yellow, a virulent scare, its quotient graded just below dark, and subtly so. A sky raining crows, like a scandal of mustaches, or handlebar dissent. Yellow crosses daring a blight, or braving a … Continue reading

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Cursive

Stars, ancient cinema illuminating a silent revival in cursive.    

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