the art of pressing flowers is all about preservation to keep voluptuous blossoms at their peak, forever dry them, meticulously lay them between pages of old books, press memories beneath the weight of Tolstoy leave them, you will soon forget to return to the obituaries pages eaten up with mold, petals that crumble to the…
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Grotesque
healing is grotesque blood and bile mucus and grime it grips you, shakes you like the unmistakable howl of a forgotten dog nothing is the same everything has become black and white mochas and cigarettes by the time I see you again my stomach lining will have been stripped to nothing
Read MorePrayers From Dust
doubled over sharing whispers with the tiles tasting the sand between shakes the only way my body knows how to beg for help is through bruises knees fold over one another crashing down, syncope sink to the stone floor thousands of miles away from my temple, double down prayers through muddy tears between breaths, my…
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