May 2013
18 posts
1 tag
I woke at 4 AM, my body aching and light under a peak of heavy mountains. The fog rolled quietly over the wooden deck just beyond my window, panting with soft, gray eyes and the wane of distant sirens. My head adjusting to synthetic light as I moved methodically in a strange hotel room.
The air felt damp, soothing. We drove a half mile to the entrance of the smallest national park in the United...
Where the head wanders, the heart flutters.
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I found a language other than my own in which I wrote you a painful letter. Because we were drowning, circling the drain like lost pieces of split hairs and okay, maybe I was splitting hairs, but you wore me down like sweater elbows.
In a silent cafe, you swore at me telepathically and I was sipping hot tea with burnt tongue persistance. You were only a metaphor for the sum of my parts; for some...
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A lonely night on the outskirts of New York City and there is a quiet hum to the passing planes. My cigarette drags like the hours do as I pass minute by minute through the month of May. Waiting patiently for two more weeks. Hoping for positives and mornings drenched in macaroons.
Five days from now, I’ll watch the sun rise over Cadillac mountain, the first peak in the United States exposed like...
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My father told me that cabbage pancakes are the only ties he has to the celestial world. No corn fritters or eggs with a side of bacon and orange juice. Japanese style cabbage pancakes with sesame oil and two tablespoons of low-sodium soy sauce. Like the initial hints of summer weather and shoes without socks for the first time in six long months.
We ate jumbo prawns with sirracha and took big...
2 tags
Blinded by the neon lights of a new city, rubbing the film from my aperture eyes. I felt filthy, dusty, egg-headed in this place. Awkward and browned by a sun much closer to the equator than I’d ever been. A dessert of strangers dried out by the weeks.
In March, I wrote myself a love letter while my skin cried all over New Jersey pillows. The fertility drugs I took wrapped their hands around my...
3 tags
Retrograde
deliciousinterludes:
I shouldn’t ever go back and read you,
or read us, as we were
but I did today
cringing at my saccharine naivety
but mainly saddened
at the promise of love
wasted by fear
4 tags
creditors
There’s so much debt out here in middle America. Parking violations and small, horseshoe-like medical bills that we can’t help but crumble up. Working our asses off to graduate with a flimsy associates degree that will barely hold me above water out here, in middle America.
I have maxed-out credit cards and friends who will never see a profit from their scores of student loans. I...
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30
I remember my swollen moon breasts,
An abdomen filled with blood, and self worth, and tapestry,
Your own body morphing as if you were the tides.
I ate mangos from the bow of your boat, my eyes beginning to adjust to the lowering of summer sun,
A firework display inside my stomach that
Only I could see.
We thought we knew love then, but no.
Love like a Molotov cocktail,
Exploding along the...
3 tags
29
We had the same scars
But different stories,
Makeup on our upper lids and
Deep red lipstick to match our
Type B.
Wonder if the sun flares I found
In your old photographs
Will lead me back to you.
Wonder if our alchemy is
Enough.
27
The way you watch me,
As though I am the lightening
And your home is ablaze
On the shore.
2 tags
oldmanflower:
“We held our breath and each other and couldn’t figure out the difference between the two.”
—L. H. Gilliam
1 tag
The moonlight shatters me, drawing a blank like I am a bent piece of paper floating relentlessly down a desert road. I’m just a tumbleweed. A major highway flecked with the dead of any one person I’ve ever loved.
But have I loved? Perhaps not fully. I have no desire to feel connected with another membrane because I am influential and easily influenced. An unsteady hand reaching out...
April 2013
56 posts
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26
Asleep,
Dreaming of the cosmic encounters
Our bodies have with seven human beings a day.
I’ve brushed against so many shoulders, lips, eyes,
Trying to find myself.
And in the pages,
There I am.
1 tag
26
There’s no ghost
More intruding,
Overtly infinite,
Than the one of
You.
1 tag
25
A few more sleepless nights,
water under the bridge like
I am a traveler and you are my
Endless road.
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24
Her hair was satin,
Stained by the hands of
Pomegranate men and the
Cool, white finish of tapestry paint.
Her aura electric.
I wrote her name in smoke
Six thousand four hundred and sixty six times.
The mountains called for her,
For her, for me.
Weening our bodies from
Back lit computer masks and
The pollution of city smoke.
I could say it was love -
Could.
Won’t.
Love is an...
5 tags
23
Delta flight 638 to air traffic control,
Our hearts are leaking fluid into
An ocean of muddled blue.
Glisten, listen, dear.
I have a stomach full of figs and
Hands like Rorschach’s paper trails.
Tiny birthday hats to celebrate the
Way we’ll mourn our love.
“Nobody will protect you from your suffering. You can’t cry it away or eat it...”
– Cheryl Strayed (via creatingaquietmind)
This lady is actually on par with FLB. New idol,
3 tags
22
An experience craving.
Late night runs to 7-11,
Diving through the milk aisle
Like I am an inferno.
Perhaps the distraction of
Watching your lips trace mine
Is all I need; a clever sunrise,
Bursting through the windows
Like a hunk of cornbread
Slathered in jam.
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21
My hands are like a Phoenix,
Rising from the ashes
As though they had wings.
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20
Despair is like a deep jade,
Caught in a light
So muted our eyes
Cannot adjust.
A whisper.
Keeping my own accomplishments
C l o s e
Because her growing
Arms do not forgive.
2 tags
1 tag
19
He and I were
Sawdust underneath our
Borrowed mattress.
Living check to check on
34th and Bellerose Place
In the basement of his
Grandmother’s old house.
And he wrote me songs
About how melancholy
Lovers won’t make it
Under oath,
But he was right.
Perhaps the interest lies
In the magic between
Two sparked lips.
1 tag
18
Night like a cup of black coffee
And
The way the seasons turning
Always makes me
Sick.
2 tags
17
What didn’t make sense was how quickly we dissipated. In the wake of summer, I skinned my knees along city streets, kissed another man, woke up next to the ocean in a cramped bed. You’d been gone for weeks already. And there was the salt, the sand like memory beads underneath my feet. The way our mouths fit perfectly into the palm of Monday’s hand. But we weren’t ready yet,...
2 tags
16
So young, threading needles with
That red string.
And 21, taking my life back
Two pieces at a time.
But there’s a fault line
Somewhere in my spine,
Fizzling out like the lights of
a bad headache.
I’m 24.
Sun salutations and the
Back woods of somewhere I was once afraid of.
Perfect sense, but not enough
Leverage to keep
even you
At bay.
“We can’t jump off bridges anymore because our iPhones will get ruined. We can’t...”
– Jeremy Glass, We Can’t Get Lost Anymore (via wendesgray)
2 tags
15
And with one short word,
You were there again,
Like a season you’re in love with
Or the ever long.
You’re a carnival,
You are,
Flecked with blinding colored
Lights and the sorrow that
Comes with the people.
I don’t regret, simply put.
3 tags
nothingrhymeswithsasha:
“I don’t love him. I never have.
I never have.” My grandmother says.
She powders her face.
Arms herself to the elbow in gold bracelets. Black dress tight around her hips. The gray curls shouting around her face, pulled into a soundless bun behind her ears.
And I don’t know what to say when
the women in my family dress for love
like it will be
the death of...
1 tag
14
I’ve taken tests before,
Wrapped my fingers in the handouts
And lived in notes like
A glass house.
But I’m struggling.
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13
The blackness
Comes alone.
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12
Six o’clock and the
Church bells ring as
They always do,
My camera glued to my hand
Like an extension of me.
I am half awake and hoping
For a better day,
Knotting my heart strings
Together in a tangled mess.
If only I could capture the look
On your face
When I tell you
I’m leaving again.
My tire tracks, like a familiar ghost.
Hemingway Knows: The other night, I had dinner... →
cordeliagablewrites:
The other night, I had dinner with a chef. It was my first time eating out with a real live chef. We ate Thai food at this local place a few blocks from my apartment. He was fairly taciturn—he likes to eat, not talk—so, I spent much of the time staring at his arms. On his right arm, he had a…
Wow. What other words are there?
2 tags
11
The bones in my legs
are brittle,
Spent from the miles I’ve run
And the inches I’ve lost.
What concerns me most is
My idea of beauty
Has erased itself
From my sinking arms,
Breathing through me like
A geisha and her
Flawless charm.
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10
I can tell a lot about you
By the whites of your eyes,
The endless universe of your spine,
The way you read Rollins
Like your mouth is made of
Only his words.
Some days,
I am calloused,
Barely breaking dawn
The way I’ve always wanted;
Weathered and lost.