Tag: melancholia

  • crash

    weary of these whale songs
    i give over to bone silence 
    ossified in scrimshaw waves
    no white-cap crest response 
    cast upon the horizon
    before every drop resolves
    itself buried in the crash

  • not this

    most of what matters
    is not this, said she
    turning out the lights 
    before slipping
    between the sheets

  • hidden in the crowd

    a glance,
    hidden in the crowd
    you saw nothing
    i, everything
    i turned my face
    and let myself fade 
    away

  • too tired

    too tired for words
    fingers arthritic trees 
    winter bare grey in
    winter brambled winds
    too tired to
    touch at distance with
    only scars cut to red

  • spades

    discomfiture worn like
    a tight timed test with
    each drowning breath
    slipping under regret

    there is already
    hell being paid in
    spades and forgotten
    fading memories
    coming undone
    a thread unspooling
    into the setting sun

    it is no less than
    everything deserved

  • well deep unwrought

    i well deep this in
    unwrought stone
    grow moss long
    at evergloam
    naught but echo
    keening of mouth
    howling of heart
    brittle, broken,
    ravaged & worn
    here of my well deep
    in unwrought stone

  • thin step away

    thin step away
    past all echoes and
    unmoor the long
    drag of scrapenail
    to open a sutured
    self up and

    good the bye

  • wearing masks

    must hide these scars and
    not give my crimson ley away
    so i can pick at each until
    they can bleed again tonight.

  • shards, iv

    these steel cut shores
    carved in black sand
    whisper hush of tides
    and heavy of storms.

    'black rain comes.'
    more slight than whisper,
    more ragged than thorn.

    hand grasps of hand,
    lingers as wraiths
    for which are known.

  • the hanging man

    it is passing strange
    how a turn of word
    tugs at puppet strings
    whereas an elegant mask
    might only hang

    it is always the
    whispered words
    with the most draw
    as we dance at
    the edge of a tether
    aching for more