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Literature Text
The tree spoke. Not to you or I, but to the freshly dead. Many wayward souls visited the tree, asking for their purpose. It answered them, in the sad rustle of wilting leaves, "The question belongs to the living. Not you."
Literature
consecrate
authenticity an arsenic
in morning coffee, in the smiles
pressed like ironed laundry,
because I feel like one wrong breath,
one wrong kiss between glossed lips and soft jaws
and I will be nailed to a cross
deception a shame rising like steam,
where teeth grind against each other
like clockwork gears, tick tick ticking
while the tongue kisses the roof of its cathedral
like a prayer to gods yet to be named
because her face is a mosaic window
shining the sin out of love
Literature
In the Syllable
...then there is a way in diswaiting.
Dust some yellow sand covers,
here uncover bare bedding.
...suffusing red planes, blushed dunes,
under incidentally quilted blanket
wet as arid curves, as sounds.
...in a persistent pavement,
in a solemn unsuited promise,
some written words erase
some letters drip and soak
unto a perfuse miracle,
a dislocated split,
a letting go of...
Literature
notesleep
playing my emphases like harp strings
your voice smokes thru the oaken bramble
pour a carbonated apology, a sun-stained
mile marked envelope, two ill-fitted birds,
hands small holes right before a rush of river
what it feels like being swallowed from the outside
crushing rings into truth serum, pretend
to be out of tune with that deception
I have been unable to parse my own persona
a pink cotton voice I remember thru the phone
I remember because it formed me into a granary
one crop after another of patriarchal idioms
whisper my secrets so softly into a glint of red hair
a saucer-eyed lace pattern cut into pine paper
I practice radical self lo
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Very very short. ;w;
There's a running joke between me and my sister on how I can't draw a tree. While that's true, today I bet her that I could write a pretty good one.
I started this with the intention of being silly, and then the words turned into something else.
There's a running joke between me and my sister on how I can't draw a tree. While that's true, today I bet her that I could write a pretty good one.
I started this with the intention of being silly, and then the words turned into something else.
© 2011 - 2024 Rieal-Dragonsbane
Comments17
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I like very short stuff. 
I feel as if from the very first sentence there, you've made this... not silly. At all. xD
It's a good thing.
I really like the ending and how it's like... the ultimate end, or the ultimate punch to the gut, as if life couldn't get any worse and now.. yeah.
Hence the 'wayward' part, I guess.
It's somewhat ironic, actually. o.O
I really like the setting and the actual concept, anyway. It's pretty thought-provoking.
I feel as if from the very first sentence there, you've made this... not silly. At all. xD
It's a good thing.
I really like the ending and how it's like... the ultimate end, or the ultimate punch to the gut, as if life couldn't get any worse and now.. yeah.
Hence the 'wayward' part, I guess.
It's somewhat ironic, actually. o.O
I really like the setting and the actual concept, anyway. It's pretty thought-provoking.