later that night
i held an atlas in my lap
ran my fingers across the whole world
where does it hurt?
make a myth of yourself:
all women turn into lilacs,
all men grow sick of their errant scent.
You could learn
to build a window, to change flesh
into isinglass, nothing
but a brittle river, a love of bone.
literature exam tomorrowwww 🙏📄📓
Nobody will ever love you as much as an artist can. On your worst days, they will find poetry in the knots of your hair.
A batch of wonderful book dedications.
'just skip the sex scenes, please'
Hearts are wild creatures, that’s why our ribs are cages.
I will bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells,
dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.
I want to do with you
what spring does with the cherry trees.
When God created his angels he did not mean
to make divinely cruel urban monsters who
stalk back alleys and lurk in the shadows.
Michael breathes out smog and a Bowie knife
is clutched in his hand. He uses it for fun.
Raphael’s grin glints gold in the amber lighting:
angels live for war.
They all move as a unit. In Heaven
they were called a garrison.
Here, they are a gang.
On the other side of town is Lucifer,
pressing hasty kisses on Lillith’s neck in a
dirty restroom. Her lipstick is sin-red and smudged.
Hell is a dusty dive bar, the Throne
a battered bar stool and Lucifer reigns triumphant.
He rules the south side and tomorrow he will
battle Michael tooth and nail for the west.
God gave his angels form
and they did the rest.
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