h0ar

With charcoal powder rubbed harsh around my eyes, and liquid-black oil combed through my lashes -- It's a fight she wants, tonight. I'm hungry, for relief, for comfort. But there's only her. I wet my lips with a cherry-red gloss. It's a fight she wants, but she'll be surprised at what I will now offer her... It's a dance. Grief and anger, wind and fire. "The way a bird navigates the wind," she once told me, "flow." Well, you were my fire, and you are my earth -- lit me my path and became the ground I walk. And I'll tell you, I fueled that fire, and I shape that earth; I am a gentle and great wind. We move each other, grow together. Naked. P

At the bottom of a tall, light-less, and empty house; in the unfinished, concrete-cold basement; alone, I let the soft breeze from my 120 volt desk fan pet me to sleep in another kind of vast silence.

I like the sound of a ring Falling To The Ground. Ping! Like a last desperate plea to be heard Discrete, because it shouldn't have fallen at all. It is almost silent It stings, Though, as it rolls To some remote place in the corner of his mind, Hiding in the shadows, to one day be found missing again, Or to lay there, Always there, But never seen - felt - heard Again I swallOW the ring to keep it safe               "Save it" But it lodges itself in my throat, Holds it open Too wide It hurts, And I can't stop crying out. So I feed the hole words until my stomach can't. take. anymore. But I hold my answers hostage,

A car door slams shut outside it shakes the single pain of glass set deep in my living room window that doesn't keep the cold out. And you're somewhere else, looking for smiling faces in the crinkled surfaces of your ginger cookies...