She pounds it, drills it into his core. He is nothing. Trash. This is her language- a mother’s love. He learns to speak it as the years pass. And when he finds love, he tells her, “You are nothing. “Nothing without me.” This is his language, but she doesn’t speak it…
Rough draft, through his tattered curtains, where he lay upon shattered glass. He’d promised to rewrite this part of his life. In honesty, he’d hoped it’d pass. No one thought he had much to say. Not one, not one person warned him. He grabs himself and writes away…
There’s power in your words, seasoning in your wind. Bit drafty is your love, but tastes like cinnamon, tastes like trust, like moonshine, sunrise, us…
“Hm?” Yellow inquired, eyebrows arched high. “She told me to #pluck my chin hair before I considered talking to her.” “Ah.” He glared at the woman, cringing at the other end of the attic. “Ey, lotsa lady werewolves have-“ “Who cares? We got dinner. Skin and clean it.”
Fear visited me last night. Sat at the end of my bed, asked me why I had forgotten him. Recalled the days he’d slither, and #jive, inside my mind, and break, break. & my feeble smile, “so beautiful,” he said. I looked Fear into his eyes- “I don’t keep my enemies close.”
Part II I had a dream. Do you dream? We lived the same, died the same. We rode the waves during the day, and at night we’d bring peace. Do you sleep? I had a dream we were free. We lived the same, died the same. You clarified daunting haze. Stole all the night- mares […]
I cry today, oceans of self-worth on my living room floor. Lover’s fingers touch like music, seeping strength into my bones. “I hate seeing you like this,” he says. I sniffle in response to say I hate it too. And after I sleep, after the raft sinks, I swim.
PART TWO She tastes the scent of earth and dirt in his hair, on his shirt. Where the blood starts to dry, where the tears brim his eyes. She tastes fire and life. Before she kisses the stars on his nose, she thanks the moon. She let’s him go.
Nevus like a strawberry, right below your belly, I explore places I’ve never known. #Gardens of red chrysanthemums, past overflowing rivers. Overflowing. I say things like, “#Marrow of my marrow. “Light of my heart.” Then, finish the deed. And reluctant, depart.
“You, the only words I know, “only language I speak, “My love, I must admit defeat. “Before I broke your spirit, “I aimed to crush your soul.” “Please,” you begged. “Let me go.” No more blood on hands, while cities choke. You, my ember, I, your #smoke.