I strip my head of its graying fruit,

And weave a pen of dead strands.

I pool the ink from the

Thick tar of a midnight breeze,

And scrawl a message on your back.

Your breath escapes from the tunnel

Of your parted pink lips.

I know you lay shackled in a

Jailhouse of dreams, and yet I whisper

Into your slumbering ear before I

Etch the truth onto your figure.

Can you keep a secret?...

Hold out your cold hand,

Mine hide snaking yellow flames.

Hold out your numb mind,

Mine has depths and corners too.

Let me walk this road with you....

The whites of my flesh

Are yellowed and crumbling,

Aged pictures fresh,

Reflected in the pits of my

Irises.

The oceans of blue,

Gold flicked and brown,

Are speckled with dew.

Silver tears fall, freezing on

Gray grass.

The living corpses, skeletons

Dance behind

My eyelids; children with guns

Held to their quaking

Temples.

Death has entered through

My aching pores, spilling

Through my veins to se...

The horizon is red, a newborn sun of spilled wine and blood, cicadas chirping, thick air stirring. It was a hazy sort of day.

A red sky, they say, is cursed,

Though I was born under crimson heavens,

And still named Dhan'ya; blessed.

Once every lunar year, the clouds tint a cinnamon shade. Mothers lock their doors and paint the knobs with turmeric, fabled to ward of Manda. Evil spirits. We dress ...

Them.

Do they have no compassion?

Collecting my bitter tears to cash in

At the bank,

They pocket my pain.

Them.

My jaw rots with unspoken words.

Anger is green, glowing and stirred

As we protest, garmented in

Balls and chains.

Them.

We make the front pages, the radium girls,

Behind velvet curtains the story unfurls,

People buy popcorn and

Watch us drop.

Them.

Do they have no compassion?

What wi...

June 1945

The little girl's blissful innocence colored in the gray landscape with excitement. She swung from her Momma and Papa's hands, marveling at the way her giggles ricocheted off the ribbed tunnel. "Look, look!" She laughed. "See how tall my shadow is? One day, I'll be as tall as that, Momma. Taller than Papa!" The girl's silhouette stretched against the bent iron walls. Peering up at her mo...

The Child

The first thing I noticed were the bricks. They were... nauseating. No two were the same shade of pink, varying from blinding fucsias to cloudy pastels, making the house look like it fell through a car wash of paint. The lady who opened the door to greet me approached the same way. Happy, optimistic, endlessly vibrant. Her hair was dyed white blonde, her lipstick glittery rose, and her ...

Autumn wind, laced with

Honeycrisp fruit and crimson,

Leaves nest in my hair.

Pumpkin hued fabric,

Firewood sparks fall colors,

Caramel and gold.

Cinnamon freckles

Line the turmeric sweet breeze,

A warm fall embrace. ...

Magic is what happens when the sun rises,

Dawn breathing golden dust onto rooftops.

In the morning, the bottles stay up on the shelf,

Locked away in a cupboard

Where they belong.

Magic is what happens when the sun blazes,

Bathing trees in a honey yellow glow.

At midday, a bottle or two's in the trash,

The rest in the cupboard

Where they belong.

Magic is what happens when the sun sinks,

The moo...

The garden grew

Carnations in

Hues of desire,

Roses reeking sin.

In the midst stood

The man, holding red

Freedom, hissing

Noises in his head.

He bites its flesh,

Crisp with ripe power,

A bend in the wind,

Wilting the flowers.

Lost in the fog

Alone in the deep

Bound by a promise

That he couldn’t keep....