aimeetakaya
His hand, my hand, his skin my skin. The wind on the back our necks. These shook and trembled under the weight of our presence. But the eyes, the eyes did not waver or look beyond the horizon of our mutual bliss.
She smiled and flicked the match. We saw his name in the paper, "Trailer Explosion, Man Suspected Dead". He was a pile of ash somewhere. Perhaps a few teeth and bone. She was known as "The Little Match Girl" for a good reason.
All the colors in the world you can imagine and unimagine, The oily blues, the puckerful pinks, the hot red that stains the tongue. the green you only find in plastic. These make up my suicide. Suicide by color, by sweet, by seven eleven.
Hi-De-ho he hummed and he walked along swing his baton , staring at the ladies passing cigars in the alley. "What a night to be a whore" he thought "the street as damp as the backs of their knees...."
Used to bring the food, the cattle, the vittles, the people. Now they are like graveyard of the industrial revolution. their structure repetitive and grimy. The chinese who slaved for them, long dead and suffered for the future of nothing.
Fall from the top my head, hitting the black sweater and creating then human version of snow, except oily and only partially water based.
or in my bowl, golden and full of fibery goodness, splashed with moisture, filling my belly with breakfast.
is the study of all things relative to being alive and in turn. Dying. God knows science is the study of everything that we can understand. Or attempt too. It makes bugs less mysterious and explains tomorrows sunshine and today's rain. It will turn on us someday.
Squawk they do, but only if you attempt to hold this creature of flight to the ground. the heart was meant to beat higher and higher. the sky, over.
Pleasantly she said
"no thanks"
Well, then.
Take it or leave it
I can not re-mark
you courteously refusal.
So
Up yours shall be mine.
black blue
tie to boot
what man
what a suit
she licks his ear
kiss on the collar
in that kind of color
he needs no pallor.
I see you know
in that suit of lead
so foreign from your hands, so red.
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writing since 2010 · 26 entries · 23 days shown up
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eyesreddeepblacklightdarkernowcolordeadhandmoisturefellhardclashstandkiss