Our souls breach at once to sunder the time, and we darklings sense awkward pauses split out, of fractured stints on souls not stricken wet yet, but… Read more “Synchronized Fissure (Sestina)”

I want to say how comfortable it is to be in silence, to sit in it and dwell in it, and spin it ’round and ’round. But… Read more “Silence”

In the Gold sheath/ the gilded fur pocket with inner smooth leather stapled still by rusted iron, lays snuggled a ruby ball, a globe of blood red,… Read more “Philosopher’s Stone”

Pt. 1 We are I mean I am popped up pockets of air I am holes held in stacks of cracks, brittle and falling I am the… Read more “Fibers (Cubism)”