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.. Oh, we’ve got spells. Woo him. Thrill him. Kill him. Spill him to the moon, she’ll hold him fast. Bubble-bubbled, toiled and troubled here in all this midnight mass. You only need bring a broken kite string, your sharpest … Continue reading
(an invisible poem in the key of C) .. This poem cannot be seen, only sounded out one syll a bull at a time, sung in the key of clouds and candy-caress sighs. She’s wise in the ways of spirals, … Continue reading
Crave her. Save her as a nightlight, lighthouse beacon for the sea. Hold her fast between these hanger clouds, the hush-loud sting of stars. Turn that golden knob. She’s waiting. .. For twiglets.
She sheds her sky -skin to begin, and reassembles herself …………………………………sane. . She gives the moon a shattered star -smooch, with lips of wax ………………………….and wane. .. Prompted by Lil’s Poetics over at dVerse, and todays twiglet. … Continue reading
morning. i am still listening to the moon. when we cannot find the day’s center, we change the sheets, create a ballooned fort of warmth and clothes-pinned sun. nothing else is solvable or solvent, perhaps. but we marvel in … Continue reading
She tumbles until she has nothing left but the rise and fall of sky as breath , and a mouth scarred thick with stories. .. .. twiglets #97.
, we walked those paths and chattered on of years and tears and everything and nothing and every -thing in between, amid those ancient rising oaks and gravestones white as teeth. … twiglet #96.