Tag Archives: words
Some kind of tender, hard to find its truest name– words fail to claim touch. Advertisements
Keeping secrets from yourself is like talking behind someone’s front.
Lisping, to gentle feral purls of ink on skin– Words, crafted to touch.
If, in words I found you wanting, lean to perish, would silence bestow a second, surer opinion?
To be swallowed, wordless, as the worst you always feared turns lighted proof into lasting scripture.
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
I understand that I am not only with my father and grandfather and Marie as family, but also as a writer. I am sketching them. The mechanical hand in my mind that never stops is charting and sketching and … Continue reading
Slow burn of words on a page, how to listen raptly between intervals of felt silence and tapped nerves.
A sense of removal raveled in intimacy and ghostly union, a sense of closeness achieved on the periphery where fools dance an impossible jig to fulfill absence.
There is an epitaph marking the life we have lived from the ones we have not. This is where I begin to separate the words from their cause, running on, unfinished, end to start.