Tag Archives: spoken

Morning has slipped

Morning has slipped her fingers under the skin of the sky and lit it with fire and ice. The sweat from the storms still glistens upon the world. Air has taken on a hint of earth mixed with the freshness of a day dreaming of heat. And I, have found my way to a chair, mug in hand, to watch blackbirds dance in the weeds.

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Serenading Aqua

Serenading aqua

running backwards over

blush hushed silences

in an effort to consume

the bitter silver sillohettes

of time left pretentiously

blue amoungst the flowerbeds

untendedly wild and verbose

leaning towards sunlight

tresses boldly defying shadow.

Escape-ism

The need to escape,
is a fire building at the
base of skull and reaching
to the movement of my feet
it is a reason
creating its own season
of relentless storms
in the wake
quake
and lunging backwards
I have been sensing
lately…
and I just
want
to run…

Because surely
I can leave the me
behind always
siding with the need
in me to remain
inside
and cope
to be the woman
I know I should be
instead:

Skydiving maddly
through the world
of my own visions
to places I have yet
to visit
and absorbing the thrill
of life
in the quickening breath
of the outside
air.