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Carve into asphalt ruts again, know them better than my own skin. Immediately I am seventeen on another midnight drive home; my headlights make all the same old shadows. Pink Bullets in my mind, but Pine Hill puts the hole in my chest. I hope you still love that remodeled A-frame, your dream that came… Continue reading I Was Walking With a Ghost
How dare we all? Go into that night, at all. We who create all the meaning there ever was, and is, and is to come. We who carry life heavy, because it is, and see everything by light, because we are (made of stars). We who compose cities of stars, but don't know, or don't… Continue reading Night
In my deepest dreams I find my way back to the old house, before it was destroyed and restored, when at night it was surrounded by dark woods and the sounds of night creatures and pond frogs, and a train in the distance; I slept there then and I do again. And again. It's sticky… Continue reading House of Honey
orange on red on sand day-end, a cool breeze arrives, urges the sun to bed, tucks her in under heavy, dark hills shadow boulders shoulder rocks surrounded by vast ripples of the finely crushed: a lineage heat waves sigh and roll over and take the night to dissipate cactus blooms nod stars, thousands, a night… Continue reading A Night Desert
melissa 