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(no subject) [Feb. 12th, 2008|12:47 am]
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[sounds like |tom waits - hoist that rag]

Learn.
The twins
one's lost everything and still an architectured city's intricacies more than the other:
spattered primaries of obviousness stunted somewhere after thumbsucking and before stockings. She's mine.
The other in those two days of her perpetual heart detonation did not stop looking at me only me, my greatest privilege to watch: How to walk through apocalypse like a kitten, lion.

Sister said she heard them behind a closed door in Summer once, brother verified. I shook and my idealistic child's imaginings of immaculate, or the milkman, fell off a high forgotten place.

My thoughts are elegant enough to have thought long out of why or unfair, but hit a skip at simplicity: she will never be in rooms.
I will never feel you in a room.
My signature grief. And past movies.
Her hair.
The girl's smile.

Her hair.


If I could choose my life: Bearing witness.
I never feel more useful.


We lost our girl.


"Your feet,
in your boots,
on the mud,
of the grave.
The way we refuse
to be saved." - castanets
Linksay so

(no subject) [Sep. 21st, 2007|12:31 pm]
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[sounds like |crown of the lost]

The night settles down in the water. The feathers of sun gather in. The trees wave their ways to the morning. The birds think about what they'll sing.
I have dreams in which you're a nightmare. I have dreams in which you're unfair. But angels still dance in your garden. And flowers still grow in your hair.

My tears leave a skull on my pillow. My tooth leaves my blood on the sheet. My heart sways the way of the willow. My heart sways the way of the wheat.
But you are the Queen of the Lowlands. You have the Crown of the Lost. I found you broke up like a shipwreck. I found you broke up on the rocks.

The horses come in from the cliff-tops, their shadows upsetting the sea. The waves swim their way to the bottom. And stay there until they're forgotten.
And you know about birds when they're dying, how they know that they're going to die, how they hide in the heart of the forest, and sleep until death chances by.
You know that. You know that.


- piano magic/glen johnson
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(no subject) [Jul. 11th, 2007|12:07 pm]
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we record 'thus far' over
in the dark at each other, sewing detail to one another's speaking.
everything before this is sharp.
bent-doubling at the edge, crushed to you at
the center like a soft doll.
Link1 said|say so

(no subject) [May. 21st, 2007|12:13 pm]
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[sounds like |tim hecker - i'm transmitting tonight]

Half the days I wish I had been one of those girls that was just content enough to find some guy to stick it in me, and call it a day. Pop out some brats with popsicle-stained mouths in a small-named town, work under fluorescent lights among partitions sitting on my ass and changing into gym shoes to walk out to my car and drive it economically back to a home to a house that smelled like a crock-pot. I'd use my tea bags twice and have lots of processed foods. Then I could celebrate holidays with said family, go on vacations in large recreational vehicles, watch them all grow up, and then die quietly with nothing much having ever really happened. Half the time I wish I was someone content with that. Mostly though, I'm shattered like colors into my life, slitting my eyes proportionally with my wry smile-spread. And the colors wave, and my laugh tries, and my legs fold and I'm always always alone and someone sticking it in me is entirely fiction but would be enough for seconds until I can straighten my eyes and think again, about cooler things to touch, and changing. Days are colored banners waving and nights are like stars/gems falling from the folds of my skirt. And for a long time that was enough, and for a long time it has been more and more alone, so that only alone is left ringing.
___

Let me just say that in the last year my f-list has undergone many changes
and as it stands, i adore it. Every day i read through it is a new and inspiring feast for the eyes and brain. I'm very grateful.

a slew of spring folioCollapse )
Link17 said so|say so

(no subject) [May. 9th, 2007|12:46 pm]
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[sounds like |God's in crisis.]

The toe of her right shoe caught on the sidewalk crack the girl had been specifically trying to avoid for the sake of her Mother's lumbar. The girl tripped, flying forward and down with her mouth and teeth meeting the concrete hard. As she stood up, blood rushed out and down the smocking on the front of her yellow dress. Her hand flew up like she was stopping herself from saying something. At the same time she felt with her tongue that two teeth were on the floor of her mouth. Her throat filled with tears. The building pressure welled her eyes up to spill.

That moment, the grey clouds in the sky parted and white sun light shone through and warmed the girl's face. She felt both things at once.
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