The stories we tell ourselves ...
sharp black narrative line
inked in
jangly half-truths
clothes-pinned to the high-wire
alongside scars carved by my own hand
raised & tender as a scarlet finch's wing
deep in the shadowed alchemy
of stories drunk on the vapor of belied Chiron
verdant trust lost in the Grimm forest
of
shame & frosted glass-full
surprise :
unwelcome as a forecast of fire-ants
The stories we tell ourselves ...
hiding without seeking
come out, come out wherever you are!
sun welts the foreign corners of ice & diamonds
light reflects, wind stirs
something lingers
something makes itself felt
Spring
sharp black narrative line
inked in
jangly half-truths
clothes-pinned to the high-wire
alongside scars carved by my own hand
raised & tender as a scarlet finch's wing
deep in the shadowed alchemy
of stories drunk on the vapor of belied Chiron
verdant trust lost in the Grimm forest
of
shame & frosted glass-full
surprise :
unwelcome as a forecast of fire-ants
The stories we tell ourselves ...
hiding without seeking
come out, come out wherever you are!
sun welts the foreign corners of ice & diamonds
light reflects, wind stirs
something lingers
something makes itself felt
Spring
a particle knowing
detected only by this barely detectable fragrance
of
cherry-blossom buds
The stories we tell ourselves ...
straighten the line
don't bleed out
follow the soul curve
bend
and
lean into surrender
of
cherry-blossom buds
The stories we tell ourselves ...
straighten the line
don't bleed out
follow the soul curve
bend
and
lean into surrender
