Monday, October 26, 2020

Cartesian Casting

our goodness disguises itself
as a hesitant trembling
bound to marrow and memory
surer than this first snowfall


the weary grief poised upon regret's edge

no doubt in the fear we are not enough

incomplete our box of paints
unfinished our sculpted stories

imperfection and debris create the amber
feel the whirling diadem of your existence
in this first 

Thursday, October 15, 2020

in and of

timeless enfolding

syncopated rhythms of petaled forgetfulness 
how we turn inward while turning outward
to sun
to the violet edges of linen old
crinkled clasping of celadon-hope to breast full-striving
for that sulfur spring
while doubt circles disguised as stardust 

we loom fierceness with hands leaning in

how can we tender to such persimmon fragility
while soothing our own feathered fear & bones?
holding in fractal spaces 
defined by
lips pressed to peach skin pressing protection white white

lean in
lean in 

to love in all it's brilliance
to the cutting sorrow path
lean in


rooted in coriander 



the bursting orange & yellow of this day 

presses tight against some boundary 9° removed from blue 

yearning to feel anything but the hollow 



and fall amongst the debris of stars