Wordle #452

Wordle 452

She stood alone in front of the bathroom mirror. Her large, voyeuristic eyes were like keyholes. Intervals of darkness beyond which two separate, untenanted universes lurked. The sunlight spilled shyly across the wet floor and she thought rather abstractly that it looked like torn satin. She reached her fingers into the light and wiggled them around for a moment. That something so gentle, so ethereal should have the power to burn her only enhanced her sense of mourning. How many times had she had her own heart broken? Love, she thought, is rather like sunlight. She felt as if she could never love again. Not in the same way, not to the same degree. Yet, deep down she knew that she loved him still. That she would always love him, not just as she did now, but more with each passing day. He probably loved her too. Someday, she hoped, that he would end her suffering with a confession.

She could feel herself shrinking into her pink bathrobe. She was shocked by the weight of her bones, by their implacability, by the way they held her in place before her own volatile portrait. That I should carry a cage inside of my very own body! She thought laughing out loud. Sometimes she forced laughter when she was by herself. She bit the end of her thumb with a shudder but reality did not release her.

She unlocked the door. Each room in her house had a story, a fragment of truth that under scrutiny caused some aspect of her persona to unravel. She was not naturally a tidy person, at least, inwardly she knew herself to be a mess. She was not particularly fond of white walls. She had no use for tiny tea lights or candles of any sort. If she ever lit them she’d forget them and the whole building would go up in flames. It was for this reason that she never bothered lighting the fireplace.

When she passed by her roommate’s bedroom she did not lift her eyes but continued on to the kitchen in search of breakfast. In an hour or so her roommate would leave and she’d have the house all to herself. She had the whole day planned. Cry. Exercise. Cum. Sleep. Repeat. She would think of him when she came. She would call his name with all the fierceness of a prayer. She thought his name delicious but she’d never told him so. The waves of orgasm would inundate/erode her senses. Her silt-heavy head would empty itself of all extraneous stimuli. For a few precious moments it would be just the two of them.

(don’t write so many short stories)


Bonus Wordle “Moment of Tangency”

Bonus Moment of Tangency

We pass without meeting

pupils crushed to specks

in the whispering sun.

I make a wish

on a fallen eyelash

but it doesn’t take.

Your dress sways and flourishes

like butterflies in love.

The air smells of mocha

and hints of vanilla.

Sultry clouds pout from above.

I watch you dismantle

a sheet of paper,

fragile hands closing like a tourniquet

over each syllable.

From the other end of the veranda

my heart sweats in empathy

if only I could breach the gulf

that stretches between us.

Desperately behind in my wordling

Wordle #184

Week 174
You were the first
to send me to Windglum,
the first to growl in my ear,
the first to dampen my heart with kiss.
I loved you only so much as I was able,
which proved daunting and insufficient.

To what do I owe this abysmal fall?
Was it a word or a deed or an absence?
My breath sours as I speak.
I will not call to you in our native tongue
I will not flail or beg or commit
to another futile attempt at reconciliation.
You have gone off now like a comet
and though alone I am still only a harlequin.

(written in 2 minutes, my god I need to find some time to write)

Wordle #182

Week 182

You belong to the ether,
to memories eclipsed in saudade.
I cannot recover the incline of our journey
or the bittersweet implications
of your infinite meanings.

We were coruscant in our brevity,
a glitch in a continuum without fault.
I do not seek you out,
your extravagance, your fishnet tidings.
Time has rendered me lenient
and all that we were
is now alien and diffuse.

Whenever I see a field of tulips
I think of you,
how wild, how cultivated you were
as I remake you again and again
with varying inflections.

A very quick write before bed!

Wordle #289


Smoke leaks from your open window
and I know that you are deep
within the temple of your unsound mind.

I cannot compete with your subconscious
with what you have not seen but undoubtedly know.
I miss you, your eyes swaddled in my gaze,
your words nestled deep in the base of my spine.

I no longer sense an intimacy between us.
We are strangers, our tracks having diverged.
I escape into our memories, the bits that were good
overshadowed by the bits that were bad.

You are not wrong in citing incompatibility
but for you I was willing to reconcile our differences.
I swing first with my right hand than with my left
but the debris overtakes me
and with one final gulp, the air.


The stench of death

Clasps my lungs

And my hands

In turn the left breast pocket

As if there were a psalm

Buried within the syncopation.

The gulls gather overhead

Their vehement cries

Perforating and with shrillness

Stitching the world

Into an arbitrary silence.

Her yellow dress curls

Like moist paper.

Her strange eyes

Pinned to a darkening nimbus,

I await explanation

Though it serves no one

To speak.

He left me she says

In a voice without

Thread or continuity.

He left me again and again

And then finally

I lost count.

How permanent

A thing is when lost.

She folds her body

Into a river,

Still and transparent

She sheds her remaining tears

Her allegories, her fractured pride

And falls into a sleep

Too vacuous to admit

Her melancholy.

Wordle #139


I snatch your angels

From the waves

Of a treacherous silence,

A box apart from

The residual graves.

As simple as a moon

Fashioned of clay

My self recriminations

Spring up helter-skelter

In moments overcast.

How could I have lost you

When I held on with all my might?

What can fix perfection

And if not you

Then what can I alter

Without covering up

These essential lies,

These transparencies

Which distinguish

One void from the next.

We were quite the pair

Miscreants starved for reason,

Two perfects eggs

In a cycling bath.

My courage no longer raw

I cling to a barren science.

Your kisses thieving worms,

Your eyes retracted halos

How can I die in the cradle

Of such a gorgeous silhouette?


Unrelated to the poem I am having technical issues with WordPress. My notification feature does not seem to be working, so I no longer receive emails when someone likes a post. This feature is very helpful for me because I have memory issues and so I really hope that it’s not been phased out =(

Wordle 192 “Shrink to Silver”


Brenda Warren

I lay awake at night stumbling

In sheets crusted with ether

Wondering why I cannot

Dream without panic.

Your eyes snag in passing,

A choice belabored in conversation,

A discreet high razing

The length of my spine,

A thousand miles of wreckage

Strewn between our ruined hearts.

What is there left to talk about?

Help no longer performs

The obligatory resuscitations.

I wipe the sweat from my chakras,

Sleeves bolstered at the elbows.

The stain of love never comes out

But there is always

An alteration of color.

Someday these raw red wounds

Will shrink to silver.






Chiara Fersini

Do you read the creases in my letters

The anxious braille of my honest heart?

Do you caress the shrill curve

Of my unmitigated tears

As they fumble over linear veins?

Do your eyes note with satisfaction

My dignity jostled and adrift?

Do you blow tenderly on the paper

To coerce or cauterize?

Do you substitute each shadowed pearl

As a cryptoquote

For a passage poignantly spent?


I am so tired today I can’t seem to string 2 words together geez


Polarity #6


Seconds crept into minutes. Minutes wept into hours. Hours spiraled into days. Days bled unsealed into weeks. Weeks spun surreptitiously into months. His old life seemed to him distant, irretrievable. His heart ached, too tightly tuned to yield to grief. Music remained a source of inspiration, a clear iris amidst colliding tempests.


In the absence of supervision the residents fought continuously with one another. Each with their own means of embellishing violence. The atmosphere was fevered and uncertain, every step taken was in violation of some inscrutable farce. What had seemed at first a fierce individuality appeared now as posturings and affectations. He withdrew into her and she in turn embraced him, even that which stood, a monument to his anachronistic virtue.


His sobriety was a point of contention to some of the residents for they took it to be condescension. Others exalted him for his resistance to social pressure but neither view seemed to involve him directly. Caricature, opposition, deceit. He knew not to which paradigm they affixed his likeness only that his words and deeds never measured against it. A villain. A hero. He knew himself not in such black and white extremes. He saw in each man a vulnerability, guarded, resented, and preyed upon. He saw happiness assumed in jest. Insatiable was the illusion of freedom for it depended solely upon excess.


She held him, his love for her a panacea. He was willing to remain indefinitely. Until one day she betrayed him in a way that his heart was unable and unwilling to fathom. “What are you a monogamist?” She had asked, the final word drawing from her a smile of contempt and ridicule. Here was a question he’d never pondered for it had seemed to him quite obvious. He was and he had assumed she was as well. Had she not said “I love you” only hours before? She had never mentioned an open relationship and had assumed happily the titles that he had naively bestowed. What of his best mate? The other man knew well his feelings for he could not help but speak of them. Had the pair just assumed that he wouldn’t mind? That he would defer or perhaps even applaud them their secrecy (discretion)? If they had thought it natural why had they lied in the first place?


“I knew if I told you…you’d make a big deal out of it…” He would have because he would have known himself well enough not to enter such an arrangement. His heart would have been crushed but as it stood now he was completely devastated.


“Life is just a game right? You ought to loosen up a little…” He had loosened up but he would not become someone else entirely. Doubted that any of them had become someone else entirely for their reliance on parodies and pills.


“We can still have fun together so long as you don’t pull that morality bullshit on me…I get claustrophobic in relationships you know….” He wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or if she had simply assumed the lifestyle in order to fit in. But standing there watching her fang-bearing smile flatline, he knew that he didn’t belong. More importantly he knew that he did not wish to conform to their despotic notions of authenticity.


We’re not there yet but we’re getting there it was a pretty long and involved dream haha I tend to have one dream that seems to go on the entire night or I only ever remember one. Today I turn 33 I love birthdays, the aging thing not so much haha