Daily Archives: November 8, 2015

Rumpled, still skin

Posted on November 8, 2015 by whimsygizmo

On the days when I have forgotten my own name, spun nothing resembling anything but chaos, tossed caution, bedclothes and straw to the wind, un be -friended both gold and bones, remind me that silence cannot be unwrinkled, and this … Continue reading →

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we all live

Posted on November 8, 2015 by whimsygizmo

.. in a yellow submarine glass house on Curiosity (killed the cat) Street. everybody knows that’s just how it goes with sticks and stones and silence. together we have addressed such things, some to be kept as gathered secrets, others … Continue reading →

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Breathing Under

Posted on November 8, 2015 by whimsygizmo

. water saves us, staves off the thirst that only loss can know. Indigo steeps our skin, roadmaps our unquiet veins, stains the world in sky. Hand. Truth. Breath. Hold it all (loosely, love) while the helium balloon fills. Me? … Continue reading →

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