Where will we go, Love? To be held in caring arms and know we are not alone in all of this? My paralytic legs and shaking limbs, I become a mannequin filled with lead for you to carry, without the luxury of a silent mind and sealed lips. My skin still drinks your touch and … Continue reading The Mantle
My body is a temperamental painter unsure of her pallet. She never has enough white for the proper mix of light. And she never makes peace with too much black tainting everything with night. And what about rainbows, she asks, always drawing tears down from the cosmos to divert the sun. My body is a … Continue reading The Color of Wishes
How can I be loved when my face ages so fast and I disintegrate every day? The lines are deeper today, like my years are writing themselves more assuredly into my skin, like they are convinced we belong together after all. A tattoo of commemoration, the shadow of The Crone cast upon me. The promise … Continue reading The Withering Prize
In the wreckage of my heart can I open anyway? In the disaster land of the aftermath of choices can I open anyway? In the rubble of decimated villages ravaged tribes pillaged body can I open anyway? Lying on the ground bleeding from takers conquering can I open anyway? Can I open to be torn … Continue reading To Be Torn Open
