Monday, March 6, 2017

5 of Cups


















transparent
thin & feathered in shards of blue
sharply
observational
all that i am rests easy deep inside this cut-chasm of quartz moonlight
basking in the resin of stillness
speech is pink
extraneous
and this oddly sacred, seasonless snow falls ... lights upon my skin, ice-fire melting
as the truth lies as sacred parchment golden & bound with paper-dragon-chains
to pause, breath & feel the thread of ruby-fire that binds my throat to the fist of my sex
if
i
allow. if I chose.
chose the pause
chose this amber intent
the pause takes a soft turn
2 steps . . .
stop
pause
slide inside a robe of cashmere nectarine . . let it drape the vulnerability,
wrapped & folded  :  gifted






1 comment:

  1. Why is it we can write with such awe inspiring beauty and evenness when we seem the most charred and bent? This is one for the anthology.

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