In the most intimate moments I still look at my feet against the makings of earth.
I live in the darkness outside of your window and breathe in the scent of soil.
I eat the moon and drink from the hole it leaves in the sky.
And when everything is consumed, I still see them.
Their little white digits moving in unison like the wolf-bred dogs of the north.
Sometimes I think they'll take me to you.
And other times I remember you've gone south, where dogs become mangy,
And dreams are made in adobe and dust.
I never for a moment thought that we should be married.
But the concept of children crossed my mind
Just to see if a white, barren p
Inside Envy
The mirror spoke today.
It warned me of a beauty I have lost,
I saw a maiden, then an ashen fae,
Blackened lips and eyes a numbing frost,
Such grounds that once housed an eternal May.
The mirror spoke today.
The frigid air has licked around my eyes,
And caused a ring of angry crows to pay
A visit to the surface of sunrise,
They've beaten evening bruises into day.
The mirror spoke today.
I slept too few a night to keep my face,
And now the empty silence holds all sway.
The world shall not bereave me of my grace,
I refuse to let time cast me away.
The mirror spoke today.
I sent a huntsman off to make his name.
His
I avoid speech with you in these hours,
We lie with tickling toes and arms stretched wide.
They sleep against red skies, these white towers,
Like the bones that held my head so high in pride.
I believe they have all but worn their ghost;
I know that they have all but torn their best;
And now upon a Sunday won't play host
To your words of shaken love or need to rest.
The darkness of the moon has fallen on us,
And the pitted surface breaks stitched together skies.
The spires that we hold each-other with,
They crumble under well-intentioned lies.
I've pierced the moonlight often for my treasure,
I saw you for a time, and saw you who
I was the calf, slaughtered
when the prodigal son returned
home, his bastard smirk bright
as he bathed in the blood of my mothers.
I waited for him, his bride
with a price on my haunches.
He came to me, his sense
dulled and debased by wines
of forgiveness, his smile as a demon's
who has found redemption sour. And he will lean me back
and slaughter me again and
again for each of his sins. Does he recall
my price? Of course, to him I am a whore or piece
of meat with too much fat, no never mind
I am paid for in blood and have no
Father waiting for me.
So I will watch the pure son's eyes, as I am taken
beneath his bro
Was it the mechanics
of the act that made you
incomprehensible, like when I tried
to slip you from these bonds and slide
you from your clothes? No, it was rather when you smiled
at the thought of eternity and reasoned if a poem
was a year, then that would explain my old aversion
to casual couplings and
coarse conversations.
Why then did you not just drag me naked
through the streets and have God gaze
at His heretic, Hellish, cowardly and
impotent? You left me on my mountain where the eagle
devours not my liver,
but my loins, and longing
for such feeling might restore them. Yes, you will see me rise
whole and able
The day dawned in past tense
hymns resounding across
the sea like sinking stones.
It dawned in the white dress
She wore as the waves
folded in pilgrimage upon
her once bright brow.
It dawned two days from
Heaven when each
testament of her was cast in stone, cast
into the ocean and there was no Christ
to kiss the waves with the soles
of his feet and retrieve them.
It dawned the day she whispered
"At least we have poets."
The day dawned on heresies
they threw like stones so even the waves
could not wash away the bruises.
Was it Christ walking,
on the water, dark
as an empty tomb that caused
that day to dawn? No she neve
These delicate trepidations must
be worth preserving
for your tights and plaid skirt are unnerving
me to the highest degree of ecstasy
and stuttering is an art
like cataloguing song-lyrics.
We are smoked-out bad decisions
and head-long collisions
with spirituality in snapped guitar strings.
I collided with your tights and plaid skirt
while tasting God in the ancient vocal harmonies
of a second-hand record store,
leaving me too disoriented to say more
than "Would you like to dance?"
some nights i refuse to be a part
of your war, your sore prey-bone
hips shoving themselves against
mine, the delicate dance of bone
against bone and lips against a
bird nest of scarred clavicle. some
nights fish eyed girl wakes me,
curls up inside my lungs and prays,
skeleton boy with wishes like
daggers, splitting open my heart and
burrowing inside, my body the cocoon
i will consume you, shove your
wants and your needs down my
hollow eyed throat, your emptiness
filling my stomach but only for a
second, vomiting bird bones and
here is where we forget, bend in the
wind, snap our wings back into
firelight join
So I've been like super tardy in getting around to this. I have a new deviantart account! I've pretty much always hated this username, and to be perfectly honest, I'll probably start hating my new one about the time I get settled in since I can't ever seem to stick with one username for very long, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. I'll be sending out friend invites once I've reuploaded all my old stuff so as not to overfill anyone's inbox cause that would be rude. The new name is stubbleman for reference.
Thank you so much for your thoughtful, detailed comments, you're a prime example of amazing reviewers. I spent my free time going through all my messages and have to run, but have read some stuff on your page that I like and will comment when I return. Thank you!