Pretend

you pretend your colors didn’t fade shades of red and blue; painted over your skin with brush of fear and pain you pretend you beam with light cracked glass and broken windows letting the sun in – to trap it in the dusty gloom you pretend you live catching threads of the everyday with obsidian talons raising from your grave to bathe in the morning blood sinking teeth in your own vein.

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Autumnal Colors

you are summoning the autumnal colors rustling branches and wild vermillion your hair drink the gossamer bliss you were my captive, my woven wonder you tucked my heart in the cradle made with gleaming threads created air we both breathe with I am drowning in fallen leaves wooden fingers, metal beaks, copper spiders runes on the tree bark – those which fulfill tangled wishes The rusted season swallows us both let me summon the roses let me summon the thorns a spell that lasts until blinding white licks our skin […]

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Heavy With Rust

these cats were never meant to be warm frozen claws and frosted teeth sharpened on tired days and sleepless nights thorny creatures, mares of non-existent dreams needles and thorns; iron lilies draped on wires   this night was never young copper skeleton bent to the ground heavy with rust

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Sweet One

song us a song, sweet one [ so we lead you into the night, filled with bloodied fingers and eyes like stars bathed in half truths and warm lights ] sing us a melody, sweet one [ spellbind us with your dance, capture us with your resplendent youth ] touch our soul, sweet one [ let us deceive you, a beautiful madness hidden behind a blooming rose enchanted into moss and leaves – hungry faces gaze from each mirror ] fill us with a smile, sweet one [ stolen from […]

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Fable

through a hole in a wooden fence wonders are silently creeping in the walls are drowning in shadowed kisses fables nest under the windowsills my house is a fairy tale made of raven feathers and owl wings of purring cats and the glow of young suns a secret garden where my dreams bloom with wildflowers

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Altars of Moss

my path is growing altars of moss sacred eyes of the vernal forest hidden behind the eyelids of leaves kept alive by the resin veins caressed by the silent voice of the wind their nerves shiver – their hearts brims with cradled dreams which bloom with viridescent tears bleed the moon on my altars of moss silver streams carrying the stardust sinking deep into the womb made of roots

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