Tag 365 Collection

elongated shadows on the periphery of sunset panoramas, anonymous

The film wrapped. His visa expired, but he remained by faking a British accent and taking a job under the table

every day break the sludge:
caffeine, wine, rapping

A touch of yellow sets off the light
on my forehead, where hair doesn’t cast a shadow.

Side by side we contemplate
Until, moldering unashamed,
We are carried away.

Your first words, first steps
trembling on uncertain ground
become false teeth and a walker

I know my bags were filled
    with scraps of anger
    still sharp enough to cause a paper cut on my hands

He struggled to compose himself,
while I watched. Some things
never change.

You didn’t plan on icy rain
touching your skin so unpleasantly.
So rudely, really.

how I twirl and slither
skither and skatter
in scented words of my own design.