not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.
Wednesday, October 29, 2014
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
depth and volume
conceive of the volume! she snapped
slapping the water goblet to the table top
i was twelve
i had no idea
i only knew dry from wet
now go to the well and drain it with this glass
and then find what feeds the well and drain that!
she was tired
so was i
i was twelve and had no idea
she put on her boots despite dull limbs
went out into the winter's night
latched the barn
cud chewers bawling that mournful hymn
while silver light turned white hills
Thursday, October 23, 2014
the awkward girl at the counter tried to cage her smile, an understandable form of self preservation. a grave scar dove down her delicate neck, lazed between her breasts, and then disappeared beneath her blouse. her buttons were done up poorly. when the situation dictated that she absolutely must - she opened her mouth to speak - and the silliest voice spoke out from her. i could not have imagined such a tragedy of characteristics. such a strange and awkward creature. something flung open a door in my chest and flew out toward her. immediately. i loved her.
Labels: the language of birds
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