Image

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What if I

Of dust, breath, and rib

Too, picked you

— Obliterated matter, and ground-bound

And breathed

Christ-like fellowship

Into you

Stood by your side

And we walked together, thence?

So Much Us

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Excitable
Calming songs

Morning grabbers
Midnite wanderers

Strangely enough
Far too much becoming more

Omnipresent
From somewhere else

Covered in that certain rust dust
Perfecto

Moving together
Are we ever

Bad Fantasy

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What the dust

My front doorstep littered
In layers of bravado, force-fields
And might

As if the guardians decided
My heart, prone to thieving
Had stolen their swords
Then taken their jobs

So they quietly left in the night?

Doubt

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Somebody tell that man there are only so many starlit nights we’re allowed, that the sands of time won’t stop collecting around my ankles, that I’m beginning to believe that Stardust is my maiden-voyage name, and that surely I will soon sink in this sea….

Remnants

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This is my own tragedy
This telepresence, of sorts
I, loving you

Self-created, for my imagination is that of a girl reading far too many fanciful tales of interplanetary affection and of camel-led caravans of the Orient
The dust of this all still surrounds me

Something I alone permit
Against God’s will,
I believe in you