existence revises occasionally
expanding, the often touted
building up – more cut
than construct, chaff, fat,
carved meat of carrying on.
again, more to say
in fewer words.
the old statues were
painted, we think.
existence revises occasionally
expanding, the often touted
building up – more cut
than construct, chaff, fat,
carved meat of carrying on.
again, more to say
in fewer words.
the old statues were
painted, we think.
under your hand,
the words shifted,
blue ink smudged.
we wont know
what you decided
to hide.
you lost your words, but
i did everything I could
to find them. they hang
unspoken, out of reach.
i couldn’t do it.
in spaces, gaps
between words,
thoughts, breaths,
we live there.
i need the
nothing-
moments
we became promises, ill-meant
and selfishly remembered.
years – misted windows,
dew collects on glass
refracting the morning.
those words, cracked and
faded, were prayers to me.
they aren’t spoken now.
we look for everything
in the words we’d never say,
down back alley streets
on coffee shop verandas,
where monsters deign to stay.
let’s light up bones
looking for pictures
in the smoke, let’s
lose ourselves lacking
the future we’d find
pluming from those
ivory cracked constructs,
let’s light up souls
with the words
we wish we could find.
sometimes a word’s enough
yes / no
Eventually the songs dry out,
the nice words and good advice
disappear like the intentions
they once sought to express.