"Glory" 11/13/16

Glory

crimson crimson crimson
a decadent display of foaming mouth
and clenched jaw, how could
intangible tension turn to such
raw, intended emotion
how could
the dances we drew on become
us and all our motions
cruelly sifted words spit from the devil
inhibit our conceptions, pretensions
how possessed, obsessed we are to
fix what’s been taken, by the.
crimson crimson crimson

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

2/25/18, the buildings weren't tall.

The buildings weren’t tall. He was fumbling a bit with his watch and then he was walking again, even faster, clutching the bag to his chest and staring nervously out into the rain. The brick was pale, a gray-red that he checked constantly, holding his hand up to shield his eyes. He shivered. His boots echoed on the ground as he walked, one, two, and again, quickening as through frightened each by the other with every stride. He was scuttling now, like a little beetle burdened by some small meal he’d found, checking the rain all the while with his hands, stopping here at a light, there at the sound of a car, to glance at his watch. For a moment his hat slipped, the shadow lapsing to show a curved mustache. A tooth flashed as he snarled slightly at the storm and yanked it back. He trudged ahead. A red car veered around a corner behind him and he swung the whole length of his self around, coat swinging wildly in the wind, bag dissolved seamlessly into it, to lean forward and stare ...
Read more

days like pages 10/22/17

days like pages wasted in words + drenched in sweat and drenched in caramelized dancers singe the edges of my coat wave kisses to her beauty, the blue of her dress they betray me so i glance one way and the next to kiss her she always knew what i didn’t it’s a sycophantic sound like a simpering or a stutter that my heart makes when she bends cluttered in affection aroused in contention she always knows what i don’t. like pages tell me how i feel.
Read more