|
Post by Aish on Apr 7, 2007 15:00:28 GMT -5
There is something in the lake at Ione.
It's strong, like the memory of Pete's fingers. It's soft, like a Revolution. It's subtle, the microcosm of the womb...
|
|
|
Post by Aish on Oct 17, 2007 17:44:54 GMT -5
Buried in the hands of God
|
|
|
Post by Aish on Oct 22, 2007 18:08:45 GMT -5
it is fire season in the west...
|
|
|
Post by Aish on Jan 1, 2009 0:43:15 GMT -5
soft lips make hard lies
shake your soul apparent
|
|
|
Post by Aish on Jan 27, 2009 21:19:57 GMT -5
You must be the garden and I hang caught, the fly
|
|
|
Post by Aish on Sept 8, 2011 23:45:58 GMT -5
eyes filled with glue, mouth filled with bloom
|
|
|
Post by Aish on Dec 1, 2011 2:00:14 GMT -5
isosceles
well f*ck - it used to be a whole line
|
|
|
Post by Aish on Jul 20, 2012 18:02:12 GMT -5
wild honey soul in motion
distillate, liberated
parts his lips with her fingertip and drowns in his mouth
electric, addictive
|
|
|
Post by Aish on Oct 17, 2012 1:30:41 GMT -5
Giving, in adoration, in pain
|
|
|
Post by Aish on Oct 18, 2012 10:36:33 GMT -5
nibbling Morse Code into the insides of my cheeks
|
|
|
Post by Aish on Nov 4, 2012 17:16:08 GMT -5
silken paws and teeth
|
|
|
Post by Aish on Nov 5, 2012 3:04:45 GMT -5
the color of the womb
|
|
|
Post by Aish on Nov 9, 2012 16:27:16 GMT -5
gracefully walking the tightrope
|
|
|
Post by Aish on Jun 3, 2014 10:57:06 GMT -5
sifting lives together
|
|
|
Post by Aish on Jul 14, 2015 10:21:27 GMT -5
My words are heavy, and loaded for bear. Each I love you burdened with subtext.
Your fingerprints coalesce over every inch of me,
|
|