November 24, 2019
Photo by Jordi Fontana on Unsplash
Intimacy with White Snake
Photo by Tobias Greitzke on Unsplash
I’m sweating honey and I don’t know
how to unlove you. your skin hovering
over mine like angels in the cold, like
if we touch it’d be lightning strikes and
moon-splinterings. and at night you trace
the wind from...
Photo by Ahmet Sali on Unsplash
How Love Becomes a Silhouette
There is this song I dig deep
to break its lyrics: its rhythm
is in early school assembly
drums & watching happy
children running to school.
-& sometimes, like loving
a girl who is water, the song
Photo by LoboStudio Hamburg on Unsplash
There is a portion of your lips / where I bury my soul
when you kiss me. It is made of honey / and the taste of love.
There is a portion of your heart / that guides me into songs and dance-
A path to voices / that ha...
Janice Kang / Eris Yeoul
Photo: "Anywhere" by Lynne Schmidt
I stare into a phantasmagoric pond in my dreams, with Neverland’s nightlights shining in my face and illuminating me like Rimbaud or Narcissus. A dewy daydream inside of a dream. A montage of malisons / maledictions drape...
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
Your pattern pinned itself to the fray of me
the first day. Not yet stitched, aligning
fragile tissue, judging bias - the wounded
always holding their breath.
When they remade you, I slept
on a hospital couc...
Photo by Nathan Anderson on Unsplash
We arrived in sunlight and departed in sunlight,
the summer sky turning pink, turning blue, purple,
black. Summer of meteors and shooting stars.
A collision of stars can cause a black hole – they sink
to the cent...
Photo: "Finding Myself" by Lynne Schmidt
lullaby, after the dark side
my palms still remember
the bridge-railings of every playground structure,
how to find the pockets of eternity
dug into transition-phase. heartbeats here
flutter skin-thin as eggshell membrane
linda m. crate
Photo by Leon Liu on Unsplash
have fun dancing with death
you say, "it's adam and eve
not adam and steve."
but what if it were eve and lilith instead?
i fell in love with a woman once,
and i know you'd disapprove;
but she woke in me the dreaming when
Photo by Thor Alvis on Unsplash
Here the night speaks our language
The calmness and smoothness of the night
as it drips from the serrated ends of the palm leaves
drenched in the milky moonlight
Here, the silence has its semantic--
its own lexicon of solitude...