* routine is good a shelter to my heart a time of secret tenderness went to swim in the morning new beauty welcomed me piercing the sound underwater large the company joyful exile Filed under: Poetry
The London Hours, 2012
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Il circolo delle arti
Spazio d'argomento culturale e letterario e di libero scambio d'idee.
* your tone harsh accusing pushing me far testing me . i’ve no rooms for games we could have had a large house . i would gave settled for a bedroom 24/7 no restroom and such you vomit everything out . even what wasn’t on the table fear is a dangerous stimulant . . Filed […]
* we met this time on fulgid smiles . among golds and sun rays ‘bout midnight we walked out . hand on hips heading dawn a soft kiss was all . we met on ends . melted together . it’s when two hearts start taking a bone’s shape have you ever noticed? . a bone […]
* white wellness welcomed within . quietness a silence seek . nearly no movement a mussel in a shell . i hear love surging . if i could stay forever . fractions of a deep me . . Filed under: Poetry
* what has smeared me fully and flat dense in this silence . skin against skin bones interwoven infinite cover as the sky . around the earth if you look well . . Filed under: Poetry
* I had to hold it out to follow the new route no calls nor music . thoughts hunting i’ve no more room for pissy friends . one after another acting out selfish scenes i’ve no more emotions . i will stay as still as marble and allow you out of my day out of […]
* The hour approaches the you has changed colors as seasons do . I like yours better hues of wheat and blue skies his were the colors of night . his eyes too small and close together I’d rather be close to you and dive into large ones . although one looks away although spring […]
* as curved on an abstract composition . i was stepping on thoughts where I was born, wasn’t Texas where I grew up, wasn’t Italy where waters run beside and skins laid against soft and sunlight . I received as I drove a visual road it was before it happened I can’t pinpoint smoky actions […]
** . I’ve no geography . nor temples, nor altars . I’ve your persistent howl. . . Filed under: Poetry
** . You are the home where I do not lodge . forced elsewhere prisoner . everywhere I’m born an orphan. . . Filed under: Poetry