“the sweater is one of ripped holes and seams,
and I watch the soft, tawny sunlight grace your neck
to assure that I or the universe did not simply dream you into being”
ianthine wood
the moon has sunken into an aubergine pelt
the barren, lustful trees are noiseless
the night breathes as he does
soft and cavernous
into the surrounding yet choking air
I’m here to tell you I don’t love you
blurred and glowing,
[it truly was how I saw you]
gleaming dusk of cashmere and chastity
rally against Her dark influence
a moonlight divinity without vacancy,
you are a love unlike yesterday’s
gathering your philosophies,
ungiven shards of twisted memories
a serotonin charge,
tears of the clouds
insanity through clarity
susceptible to supernatural activity
but sanity is knowing,
and there is no such thing
relapsed
bullet holes and
fashion magazines line the walls
but we were the ones in smoked rooms,
the ones you were warned about
now doomed to arranging walk-in-closets
like catacombs
hiding in testosterone
wearing bottle-blue dreams
girl that you love
dark cars, darkest rise
allegories of the blushing light
they let me do this to myself
burlesque neon light
and the seldom
girl that you love
until the dawn strikes again
we will forever reign the weekend
disconsolate apology
noiseless nights
dripped over ice
always time for second guesses
a shattered, twisted, analogy
but reflect astrological intervention
our cynical minds would prevail divinity
which never could control me
daybreak
hair, voluminous of sleeping in
play of the angels
umber eyes have been smudged gray with sleep underneath
the sweater is one of ripped holes and seams,
and I watch the soft, tawny sunlight grace your neck
to assure that I or the universe did not simply dream you into being
{Theo}
dark eyed
dark haired
summer recollection
bittersweet, sly, uncontrollable creature
her empty moon eyes
not unlike those of a salem sorceress
lips now lined intricately with silver
I shiver,
the knowledge that her soul is no different than that of
a volatile cat
pricks at me,
though not deflating longing
seeing my lovat eyes pierce into the cracked glass of her mirror
she inquires if she looks alright
