summer-boy, birdy. cusp of september,summer-boy, birdy. by ~Avallynh
summer burns on drunken driftwood pyres breathing
pale rhapsodies of you & i to a vagabond wander
of stars over stolen shores: there,
you spin me
wilder in smouldersilk tangles, falter-step through
strayed echoes of a mandolin waltz to a worldedge singed brazen, trembled
bright with a waking of storms. there,
we troth a sacrament
of wonder and a wanting and bones ripened lovelier
for boardwalk lights and grenadine heat,
to that far place between
your shore and my sky.
incandescent, we break
with the thunder and shore on the tide
to part without a promise on the cinder-wind, but
i've smoke-ribbons through my
clinquant your wake is the warmclinquant by ~Avallynh
languid whorl of a sachet-latté
morning after,
gone when six a.m. rain swirls
pavement scents of whiskeysmoke
& a careless caress gently
under cinnamon-sugar grace --
and it was only ever this:
you were lovely
by trembled halflight, when you almost had
my summer-boy's eyes.
joey i want him unpoetic and graceless and impossible, rawboned and alive with the thrum of stubborn, stupid strength, arrogant and cocksure and good, with a roughscuffed heart of gold that longs for home and loves whole and pure and hopeless with longing that makes the words all tangle and catch in his throat but flow warm and willing from fingertips that know me better, with a rogue's twistlipped lightning smile and a laugh that rings with a child's delight, and eyes always, always burning fire-under-glass: brighter by the weight of the world on his shoulders or my dreams between his lashes, gold whispers blinking slow by dawnlight.joey by ~Avallynh
stranger you came clinging to a summer storm'sstranger by ~Avallynh
underbreath, came cold hands and tired eyes
and a bruised lip i'd longed to kiss
when you stumbled on night listing
too far to the left,
cross my thistledown garden by the dusks
that wilt between, i'll keep my door open:
your lady in sepia doesn't live here, only
the ghosts and i -- and Grandmother,
in the far-between wanders when she can
remember --
but i've a place where you can
hang your bones to dry, and
if ever they come calling, i'll not
tell them where you sleep. and you stayed awhile.
These might be far, far from perfect, but they're all special to me because they're bit-pieces of my heart and soul. So understand where I'm coming from when I beg you not to steal them and pass them off as yours. PLEASE. |
I  when I'm inspired or when I wish I could do that, or when I'm knocked just plain breathless. |
Sta.sh
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There was a dead body on Sandie's back porch, and it was trying to get in.
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Because I dream in colours you don't have names for.
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"I don't want anything with a mind of it's own bobbing up and down between my legs."~Robert Downey Jr. Sherlock Holmes remarking upon why he doesn't like horses.
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Because I dream in colours you don't have names for.
I really do appreciate that comment! I do.
Thank you again.
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"I don't want anything with a mind of it's own bobbing up and down between my legs."~Robert Downey Jr. Sherlock Holmes remarking upon why he doesn't like horses.
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Because I dream in colours you don't have names for.
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Because I dream in colours you don't have names for.