Velvet
a bottle of night
lost in the depths of the shelf
mislabeled as ink
–
owl’s wings, silent
across diamond
pierced ebony
a bottle of night
lost in the depths of the shelf
mislabeled as ink
–
owl’s wings, silent
across diamond
pierced ebony
my wet business shirt
translucent where it clings to
the swell of your hips
–
cloudburst
unexpectedly
caught outside
coruscating veils
of yellow, purple, and green
midnight in Norway
–
pebbled skin
perfectly
camouflaged
a misty red haze
growing stronger feeding on
hate, fear, and anger
–
cold rain
wolves circle
a wounded deer
physically drained
emotionally wiped out
I have no spoons left
–
driftwood
beaten by
the surf
hatred is poison
turning ignorance and fear
into pure evil
–
meandering river
crocodiles wait
just below the surface
shades from dark to pale
each made up of the other
standing arm in arm
–
frigid night
streaks of fire
light the sky
the thinnest veneer
of our civilization
so easily torn
–
scissors-
crisp, fresh
white sheets
unable to sleep
in what used to be our home
Feeling your echo
–
labyrinthine walls
reflecting back
your hollow voice
as it carves an arc
the scythe knows not of the grass
or cares of its fate
–
autumn wind
swirling oak leaves
carried aloft