French for caprice
a story is just a story, I figure.
a passion documented in the heart, that goes untitled.
I've been there.
so have you.
sometimes I tell her things: war & whiskey & whores of another no-one.
& sometimes the silence between us is the deep well of sorrow, where
we wonder how we became the sanctuary for this stranger's heart.
fault & creature (5/17)
Once I pulled her from the river by her wet fur.
it was in the brazen music of thunder & the metallic
harmonies of mourning machines - machines that loved
with fatal, sincere grace.
stolen kiss motel (2/17)
you used to care for music, until the lovesong broke your heart;
the silver eyes of a siren; & the churning sea, & the rocks so close.
danger is a French kiss (11/16)
but I hold her hard, & she clings with her body & her heart.
me, all hair & scars, the incision of her bite,
the wet from her eyes & ...
aiseki (sorrow) (10/16)
sorrow whispers at the window
hollow distant innuendo
a heart is full - a heart is fallow
melting like a yellow candle
if i'm not home (entirely transcribed) (6/13)
linger at my door
dear, as you pass
upon the sullen knob
of misty brass
attach a garland there,
and sprinkle it with Love -