Quotes added on Friday, January 18 2019



We're all immortal, 

as long as our

stories 
are told.

 
22 December 2018
 

I imagined     my mind knowing better          felt
my viscera quiver.      the birds get     startled
into flight     though     always round-trip.
it’s good to be     home alone          not that you would
if I had     anything to do about it          but
we make do.            life sucks
its thumb.      you’re right where
you’re meant to be.      who’s to say blankets
aren’t party dresses     or that eyes
can only wet     in one way.
gloveless     in this eventide chill.
luckily     we aren’t parting thickets
for interstices          for clarity.
I empathise with     the trees that bend
out of light’s way     at least till rough
limbs creep up     gently
against glass they     refuse to crack.
dirty bedroom window     remains so.      it treasures
the head that rested on it     oil and all     pondering
the ease with which     we dance     around naked intention.
show me     it’s possible to live     and for quite a while
without flowering     a new wound.
how lovely we are     in our natural state.
taste of raw     tongue on my     tongue          waves
fragile at our feet.      we stay dipped     long enough for
our digits     to grow old          shrivel without
fear.      something once felt     too cruel to endure.
I would not have chosen     to float
if given the option.            but now          i’ll swim.

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