anelle

"Aut virum aut murum oportet mulierem habere" (a woman ought to have either a husband or a wall) So pull the pink and yellow tones from my blushing skin, and with a brush, wed them to warm Barcelona walls; I will be her bright bride until the Spanish sun peels our paint, swallows our brick back into the mountain, and migrating swallows cool us with their passing blue shadows as they remind us how everything grows in shifts of breaking eggs and bleaching bones. Turning, and turning, and turning, together, the seasons slice us into sand and sigh us down to that Mediterranean coast, where we glow white and wet with the same moonlit

running under the nightrise tree branches clutching at your hair we were losing our shadows you look over your shoulder to see whether you’ve yet grown wings my breath burns to catch yours and your lips curl over bones bones bones deep down, tree roots are dancing to our pulses thumping into the earth I am holding your asymmetrical face in my hands a spotty half-moon spotlight highlights everything ugly about you I lift a hand to your hideous cheek and my fingers trace bones bones bones deafen me, and I will still hear you blind me, and I will still see you I ask where you end and I begin laughing eyes flash like

You can call yourself a soldier As gunpowder hands tarnish my skin, blacken my name But your only uniformity lies in how you never Invade my senses, sightlessly scratching at these sandstone walls Your horrified heart carried you further than any courage ever could Led you away from convulsing curves of sanguinary sand But Eden played the chameleon As your parched tongue searched for her rain You can call my eyes paradise As you lose yourself in this oasis, draining me to dust But this, your only shelter, is a lie in the sky A shimmering vision that captured your mind from the sun Your splintered smile consoled you more than

What is the end of fascination? Hitting sharply, an eye declares what is wanted, what is seen through its corner. But still only curious enough to wonder, the words refuse to form. Slowly the itch develops and only stolen glances can cure the irritation, the developing obsession. A growing sense of being drawn to, of lingering thoughts and sleepless nights, develops softly. But what defines an obsession? When does a need become so strong that you plan to meet your need before you feel its want? As the thick feeling of suffocation and breathing, of flying and falling, of sleeping and waking surface to the skin but cannot quite clear the surfa

3. G ardens Morning light began filtering through my curtains all too quickly. I sat up lazily, disgruntled and squinting against the light. Last night had not been pleasant, as I had tossed and chased after sleep through every late hour. For some reason, I had been restless, my mind’s gears still running even though my eyelids had dropped shut. As I sat up in my queenly bed, hugging the sheets to myself, I realized just why I hadn’t been able to sleep. For the first time in many years, I was excited. After all, a certain Hero and I had much to catch up on. I climbed out of bed, disentangling myself from my sheets, and made for th

And the feet shift as the beat pulses on We mouth every half-known song We're mesmerized, without a chance Oh slowly we succumb to this dance Oh this sta-sta-sta-cato beat finds its way into our exhausted feet In this mad house there's no dawn as long as there's one more song Oh this la-la-la-legato sound dares us to swivel slowly round and round In this flashing darkness, no one gives up until they hit the ground