Window
Vision returns with a foray of light, and
The window opens and your skeleton’s there
It waves hello, and I reach out to touch…
Djinn
Diluent quarantines
Codependency writhing under beds
Play this game with me
I might as well have begged
Exorcism
In shrouds of evaporated rain
I sip tea behind glazed windows
In a baggy worn out t-shirt
Watching the sway of verdant
Null
Did not think it possible
To despise my own visage
At the memory of your preference to it
Your bespoke little curiosity
Famine
Be so beautiful that I can’t leave
That my wrists are bound
So that I have no choice but to follow you around
Even though my pieces...
Attic
There was never a story
Of such comprehensive sabotage
As yours and mine
Did you really have to make it this hard
To lose a thing...
Definition
A prose poem
My ankle is shackled, and I cannot for the life of me remember when it happened, only that it’s connected to yours.
View
Concession
Crowding me against a wall
Yield you say, with fervor and zeal
But my mind is quite unlike yours
By your side wouldn’t do for me
Dawn
The galaxies in your words
Terrify me to say the least
They demand to see mine
I can’t show, I want to hide
Grass
Eons ago on a light scattered night
I beamed at you as crickets descried
You mentioned, “from all, just you tonight”
As we sat on wet grass to witness the...
Skin
Did you think me so naive?
That I am unaware of my incisions
The landscape tattooed on me, the trenches, the curvatures
Excavation
It’s a little scientific
An offhand comment I heard
From a sitcom or a cult classic
It does need scavenging
But I thought you’d love it
Decryption
That lazy drag of fingers on my cheek
Agitation soars, resolve weak
Expert negotiation
Possession I lean into
Kill Romantics
Okay, okay okay
I’ll make sense of you
I have yet to meet you
There’s this conviction in me that I will
I hate it
Hero
Who hurt you so?
That it was me you fell for
Of all people, You
You could’ve loved someone more
Prohibition
Got my sobriety chip here, love
Been abstinent for over sixty some months
I’m not playing this game with you
On conjecture, not getting drunk
Composition
Strings once, found me fond
I played them for a season
Suddenly they turned, Bled steel into my touch
Yelled, Halt! ’tis not to be completed
Equidistant
We walk hand in hand and yours decide to venture
from my palm to my wrist, as if that’s a subtle gesture