thoughtwisps One commit at a time


It seems that at some point, back in 2011, I had a mistaken idea that I was capable of poetry. Today, I came across an old USB stick and in a fit of curiosity decided to perform some digital archaeology. Herein is one of the recovered artifacts.


white feather morning, you
kissed me with your dead lips 
inhale, exhale, 
I, in a thousand little pieces, 

wait for me. 
the membranes
of memories, like silken strings
tangled at my feet. 

You open like a flower at midnight
stains of life
leek out from your black petals. 
I peel myself from you, ripe peach skin
drip, dripping, fluid falling flowing
quiet honey nectar, I am liquid. 

Whispers, kisses, lies
time smothered our goodbyes
like an ink-blotted thumb 
grease fingerprint 

your light is falling in the footsteps of twilight, 
on black velvet darkness
a finger left a trail on still water 

the mind falls within itself, unfolds quivers and disappears, 
are you older or younger, flying at the speed of light
yet tied to me,
I don’t know.