Stolen by the Wind

uttering goodbye, not a word spoken. passing like arthritic memories into an impassive night. dull ache, throbbing in the tender bones of a lonely soul. a quiet agony, written on a pale face wracked with demons. each reflection given a name and lodging. a heart divided, unable to stand. torn, stolen by the wind.

Against the Fissure

join hands grip tight while the ground splits – the rift expands splintering tectonic weight rumbling in low register roar – rolling ‘neath uncertain feet piling a coil of rough hewn ribbon erecting new rock faced monuments against the pressure – perhaps if we can hold on long enough we can weather the changes before…

Eulogy

hello friend i don’t know you anymore – at least we have the memories that brief moment we were close – i suppose it’s inevitable really – where we start is never the same where we finish rarely so as well – two different people two sides of the same coin two shades of the…