Winter Minutes
He sits in there under yellow tree ablaze with leaves freshly fallen across the rich earth, his mortality curling and wisping in the air . . .
He sits in there under yellow tree ablaze with leaves freshly fallen across the rich earth, his mortality curling and wisping in the air . . .
Grey rock and liquid gold sunshine. Ocean at the end of the world kisses my feet on infinity sand. . . .
Silver bell chime at midnight. Vibration ripples through my brittle bones as soft beeswax candle casts halo on silk . . .
I have the body of a goddess. Porcelain eyes that make you bleed into sunset and liquid silk inked over with wine . . .
I stand here with my feet laced to the ebony ground brimming with crystalline rage . . .
There is all this love within me. It trails its fingers along chandelier glass and plays tunes grand for ballroom floor . . .
Summer sun rises through vertebrae, erupts across my tongue, and breaks my teeth . . .
Take me to the place where the air is honey. I will sit with my feet in pebbled water and let the earth crawl up my skin . . .
I am lying under waning moon
with the world cupped between my shoulder blades and sun balanced on my breasts . . .