Favorite color is scarlet. Favorite year is 1984. The pictures I own do not age, nor the books I have will burn.
Favorite color is scarlet. Favorite year is 1984. The pictures I own do not age, nor the books I have will burn.
The tapestry of night woven by many
At once was carelessly filled with near twenty
Goddesses and warlocks, divinity galore
They spiraled and spun magazines of folklore
It started as one, a star that spoke red
But soon, as a cancer, the scarlet was spread
Layering beauty a mossy black mold
The crystals of shadow now offered no gold
One after one, the magnificent struck down
Perfection beleaguered a...
Pretty lights
Striking brights
Bleeding out on the pavement
The urban pane
Scents of disdain
Words that rim with omens
A tender brush
That tasteful rush
I’ll just ensure her safety
Pigeon pigeon
Canary bridges
The hue is distant yet
At last she turns
And now, we yearn
Nobody tasted her fate
A little splash
An idle rash
Alone again I clamber
Tomorrow’s eve
Taxied streets
They’ll never ...
‘Twas’ the night before Christmas
And all thru the house
Not a creature was standing
Not even the house
Hungrier and hungrier
Everything he consumed
No apologies leaking
From this monstrous groom
The presents he lay
Were well-looking graves
And the children he scuttled
Well... they misbehaved.
And lastly his belly
Bloated, hugging with worms
His secrets were coaxed
All his conditions and te...
The face I forever adore. That face evermore. Your eyes the mocha coal mines I’ll never stop exploring. Your smiles just as beguiling as a pack of butterflies. You, the light to my bulbous fragility and the heart to my anxious breath. It’s almost as it your warmth snuggled into my neck could do more damage than an arrow through my knee. “Because darling”, you will always incapacitate me. So hurry,...