#silkensquall

by day I weave silk into fresh daydreams, sprinkled with daisies and a dash of sugar; by night I sew thorns into horrid nightmares, with viper fangs and the heart of a long-dead cougar; at the break of dawn, I stir a sweet brew, a handful of love and a splash of gin; at the set of the sun, I bottle lethe's waters, twist the cap, wash away your sin

you see, it’s a party trick: you take a match, strike it, and eat the flame. let the fire burn your lungs as they blacken and fade into ash. let the fire flicker into your veins, devouring from within. let the fire eat away at the cold shell of your heart, burning what was never there in the first place. let the fire consume you, demolish you, until you’re gone and all that’s left is the matchstick or take a match, strike it, and eat the flame. then spit it out, and watch as the room burns around you. laugh as walls melt into the ground, as paintings and people blend into a mess of smoke and ash. laugh as his sly grin turns grey before your eyes, wandering hands put to rest at last. laugh as you feel the heat flare up your spine, until you’re gone and all that’s left is echoes of your laughter

tick, tick, tick go the spokes of the bikes. helmetless, they ride by house, by house, by house after house; breezily, they ride, he a tucked-in tee, she a coat over blouse; gliding, they ride by the light of the street lamps and the sheen of the moon, stone-faced young twins in the middle of june

I am the echo of whales from the depths and swings of tails I am the sway of leviathan weight gliding with ocean gait I am the rustle of forests of kelp roots from my breasts I am the black of unknown nor seen vitality, deep I preen

you may drown, but I thrive.