owlbones
the moon can't admit to the sun the reasons she has for avoiding him. she's quiet, he's quiet. think of the mess that would make. think of the burning grass. green going brown dry dead. ocean going empty, fish gasping for a breath.
sweet honey nectar. dripping down chins, coating lips in a sticky fruit-smelling residue. close your eyes, savor savor savor this moment, this sugary nostalgia.
he pushed them around with is fingertips. making swirling marks on the table, as though he were writing words, beautiful words in some other language. his eyes were empty.
i missed out on life, i missed out on nostalgic yesterdays. too busy twirling soggy-footed in rain storms. what's god's name? i can't remember. let me sleep, just let me sleep some more. amen.
my legs and arms move but i don't feel it. I just see the world going by in a blur of faded colors. the air is thick like water. i float. i sink a little. i float and float and swim, then cough. sputter. drown.
bones and teeth, strung like shiny white pearls on a string around her neck. she'd stroke them and think of ghosts and the things they leave behind.
a sun god stands before you. he'll hit you with poison arrows and you will falter, become the earth once more.
in basements, in deep places underneath your organs, flowing in your blood. you feel all feelings and then more, always more
Seashells reflecting moonlight. Whale songs, they sing about love.
Quiet eyes and fading faces. A name, a person, a feeling. It'll never rise up from the bottom of the sea. All manner of marine life has grown over it. But don't worry, the fish will take care of it.
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