Here's to the final pretender
a moth buried in her silky dust,
a lady with wings of crepe and
a thorax riddled with scars
An adhesive sticky as tar
pins my feathery bones to these
escaping thoughts and my skull
tacks me to the table
And upon this day of departure
I am softened, my grip unbound
Strip the terror from my gauzy limbs and
set me on the emerald air
In the dustbin of this world,
scrambled chaotic with refuse
you fed our wavering mouths, easily
We slept on the floor, palm to chest
I am the proud vessel of
such debilitating fidelity,
such an all-consuming joy
Please, bind me to quell the shaking
10 March 2009, 10 March 2010
Exhale Fortuity
I send up a breath in the cold
for I am not the praying kind
and the air is thick as a blanket
but the cold abounds in the core
of me, never to be smothered
I love in a rough manner
marring skin as I caress and
clawing my way to the warmth as
I harbor my own softness in a
frightened, splintered nest
And though I fortify you,
endow me unto the spruce and the
mossbellied fir, we worship the north
with howling mouths of chaos,
defeated, prostrate in the snow
Eight lifetimes below your feet
a fortune lies quietly-
Forgive me this knowledge, that
you might be complete in your solitude
In your poor homestead, forever dying
Our shared heart, a wordless
place of decaying promise,
has been left unturned like a
grand boulder in repose amid
settling mist like God's breath
In my beating brain
we are a fluttering eaglet
traversing the cerulean sky and
joyfully weeping from blind eyes
I exhale in haste
Let this hour of flight be enough
for I am not the praying kind
and the air is thick as a blanket
but the cold abounds in the core
of me, never to be smothered
I love in a rough manner
marring skin as I caress and
clawing my way to the warmth as
I harbor my own softness in a
frightened, splintered nest
And though I fortify you,
endow me unto the spruce and the
mossbellied fir, we worship the north
with howling mouths of chaos,
defeated, prostrate in the snow
Eight lifetimes below your feet
a fortune lies quietly-
Forgive me this knowledge, that
you might be complete in your solitude
In your poor homestead, forever dying
Our shared heart, a wordless
place of decaying promise,
has been left unturned like a
grand boulder in repose amid
settling mist like God's breath
In my beating brain
we are a fluttering eaglet
traversing the cerulean sky and
joyfully weeping from blind eyes
I exhale in haste
Let this hour of flight be enough
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