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Literature
River Dream
Where I exist, the seasons linger or
die too soon.
I cannot see the subtle changes, or
hear the cadence of their wings.
I feel the shift and taste the residue
between our lips,
and on the air where it also lingers.
His passing will bring the rain but
I covet him more, suspended as we are
between the seasons.
And when dusk is touched by the brows
of moths, he will fade away,
a harbinger of autumn's end before it
begins, while I drift a river dream
over which a new moon ascends.
An oar dips silently and I shiver.
Literature
shallow breaths
the sun comes down a little earlier around here
a hemisphere away and winter's setting in
but i stopped feeling the cold
a while ago
it used to sting, stickily fresh
but now the wound's healing
knitting together with paralyzing heat
with suffocating heat
just let me breathe
just
let me
i unzippered my chest the other day
let out the butterflies behind my ribcage
spilled sparrowsong from my wrists
good god, i'm finally free
you guys
are all
just
shallow believers
you guys are all
just
Literature
I Belong to The Hurricane
I belong to the hurricane
the screaming, untamed maelstrom that cleaves away puppet strings
and sharpens its teeth on misconceptions.
I belong to the harsh cold winter of an aching truth
one that beats a drum like a heartbeat under the graveyards,
whispering things that our ancestors knew (but we have forgotten).
I belong to the hurricane
yeah, that's the one the same storm that broke my back and scratched at my eyes.
It flayed open my chest and showed me my own diamond bones.
I belong to angels with battle-torn wings and voices raw from howling!
I belong to war
and to the air that sings a dirg
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