On a night of ferocious joy, You catch me, dangling feathered charms again along the bow. Your face contorts, Just please let Jupiter explain, Why I don’t dance. The sky is static now, Freezing my demeanor, Splaying out my panic. … Continue reading
Words that should warm, only make us brittle now.
In the dunes, fractured, you will find us.
Sipping tea until it drips through the cracks,
and probably beyond.
You said it was beauty, the bleaching of bones.
In the ocean, promised of inner landslides,
But poised are we until we’re lacquered and fired,
and made ceramic.
(c) Accidental Tentacles 2016