CHaosA4

There is a parallel world of conversation that never ventures past our lips. The dialogue consists of taboos of interaction that would only clamber off our dry tongues with an awkward clang; confronting lumps in our throats that we swallow back for fear of breaching a social boundary line etched by formality. Some truths are better not dealt with frankly, and frankly, better left unsaid. So he watches. Glances. Stares. His sensitive scalpel eyes gravitate to her with addicted appreciation, flick away again, slide back for more; detecting her barely evident subtleties with deft perception. The neglected fall of hair that begs to be brushed ba

My life is broken. I sleepwalk in circles, measuring my failure to thrive and counting lacunae that gape aching in my chest, my appetites eaten away by a malaise squirming in my stomach, beneath my wilted lungs. I was raised like a welt and spoiled with band-aids. Daddy Jekyll Father Hyde waltzes one step forward two steps back to the tune of break her wings one day stretch her wings the next and wonder why she limps and lags behind the others. My skin splits in hidden places as I feign contortions of functioning, while I’m really handcuffed in the trunk with my throat cut, listening to the traffic. No one kn

Back then I remember my blood raced with virgin hunger and I thought in terms of seeds, dreams, and clowns in costume cocoons. He and I spoke of ourselves as two jesters removed from the pack; The curtain never closed but roses piled at my feet, and I danced in forests in a circle of seven. As the world fades, my pupils are possessed by magnified visions of all that was, as I engrave the last two memorials with names that are lost to me now – She and I wove our first worlds that we lived in together, twin mystics with ink-stained hands. She and I painted in black and blue together and spoke diamonds and pearls, the