They travel in abhorred clarity
translucent against smeared past scenes
as they walk through white walls;
supposedly transcendent in emulation
of the remiss of society; archaic nightmares uncovered
by truncated whispers echoed out
from mouthless visages.
Even the trepid quail before these impermant forms
for although their shape may tremble and disassociate
their instillation of trepidation endures.
As placid fervency drives
the venerable mysteries.
Violet streaked girl
Raven strands settled between the stars
and speckled white shirt – encompassing the universe.
Those pinpricks human skin
blending with pale planets hanging in the sky,
Porcelain skin untouched by the dark matter
and watched by sparked flames
residing in eyes reflecting the galaxies secrets.
Tipping forward
the brown grows only bigger
toes clinging to the edge
lashes tickling my face
A brush of wind –
and then I fall
into your eyes.
Black lips smudged upwards –
a charcoal grimace
formed after remnants of a broken mask
were retrieved from licking fire
it’s insides dark.
Yet for all the glue
the tape
the fixing
the hours spent healing
only a new mask rests upon your eyes
staining fair skin dark
as horns curve out
tipped with russet orange
as if dipped into the thoughts in my mind.
Still the grimace remains
as depthless eyes gaze out,
opaque in terror
and sightless in death.
We stood among the spindle trees; letting their frozen fingertips tangle in our figures and the soft earth from which they fed to line the rough soles of our feet with bashful kisses. As we crouched low the strands of our hair caught and were held aloft, creating a spiderweb of russet and caramel. We watched one another through the tickling light, the shadows of our faces only growing stronger, till like the moon, craters of darkness completed our complexation. Yet despite the omniscity of our bodies our eyes were fixated. Across matching pale cheeks and sunken eyes they traveled, as the air shivered with the mingling thoughts of intimacy. The trees sighed their withered songs of the future, watching as fingertips met. Two hands, identical in hidden matrimony. Each grew colder than the other, until their blood became so icy that it began to burn. Like fevered passion it swept up their arms and up to their faces, which twisted in the light and gleamed speckled smiles. As their hair brushed, intermingling with a whisper of osculations, their faces tilted. They fell together then, until finally two lips met and their tainted eyes shut, blocking out the prying sun so that they were alone and just another secret that the forest kept.
Just Another Impurity 