for Shi Shi

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out here the rain and your book are my only companions, and the only thing that matters is the campfire and keeping the sparks (bright, living) from too-close legs where fabricated light cannot reach solitude is no longer secondary, but breathes with my breath, and pauses in the dark - intending everything, but only later … Continue reading for Shi Shi

the departed

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your departure has the weight of ash no longer carrying your fate, I return to my old shape days hold their same complexities but night has become startlingly simple - rucked sheets, wooden bed-frame - there's no need to believe in anything else how is it that you ever fit inside these walls? inside this … Continue reading the departed

insomnia

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craving stars, I crept down the crouching hallway, disturbing only moths seeking their own small allowance of light trees sleep, lowering their limbs by fractions as the day subsides, leaving only the incremental gestures of slumber I have had to explain often the peculiar edicts of insomnia, and how it does no good to seek … Continue reading insomnia

the hours of you that remain

we say goodnight, then goodnight, and once more a goodnight of softening kisses - just as the dawn cracks the night I count the hours of you that remain to me, and tuck them about us - thin comfort against the coming light © Sarah Whiteley

1.22.2015

and the pain was a hook she had swallowed - a bright, relentless sun which burned beneath her heart without the relief that ash would bring - and the heat rising up from her throat carried with it the most fervent prayer for darkness that the sky had yet heard - so frightening that the … Continue reading 1.22.2015