Upon Thinking

To write. Or, to writhe. The shell is human, but the meta-factual is even money now. While transcription is a heartfelt thing.

Some Gone Wings

In Cuts

Black wreaths for everyone and the meat that we are falls down, evident. The glassy silt from my sleep last night shakes from my ears. I’m drinking in the noise. 

Open The Night

Not Of A Sudden

At the bottom of the bric-a-brac shop, I saw you veering. You were wondering if we could put it back together. You were wondering how far away we were from quiet.

Words Like Fun

Moving In 2

Even The Ghost