February 2012
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in my dream you played for me your sickly sweet-sad notes on a bed of hush-hushed noises i could hear myself blinking and you pointed to the freckle on my lip in my room you left for me panes of glass and pressed flowers on my bed, caught in the wool — crunched forget-me-nots, rose thorns and their hips i could hear you sighing on the floor below, as i picked them out and when i awoke i...
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tulpa
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January 2012
23 posts
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what is the word for the way i feel the hollows between you and i? static faces in magnetic spaces leave auras, traces of myself left in strings of coffee and sound what is the word for the way you feel the hollows between you and i? 0 / 1 / 2 / 0 are our landscapes held in stones, punctuated by bones, and feathers and the absence of their birds where is the word for the way we feel the universe...
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in the penumbra between our thumb and fingers is a portal to our esprit d’escalier from two to one i am nothing and some and i sink into elderberry wine through sanguine pools to pinot noir, je suis aller sans toi, tulpa to the place atop the rook où tu es pendanter de mes cheveux until i am phosphenes stumbling through a drunken forest tracing circles and i am alone without my tulpa on a...
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1E4, played.. dreamily (sloppily)
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December 2011
38 posts
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now that i’m a woman cover, this time with...
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thistle brush plays my keys, feckly like what i see a clover sings a choir in my eye, and these lungs betray a sigh dandelion will you please, dream-tune my astral piano nodding onion turn your cheek, a serenade in false soprano
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