Devoted exclusively to the creative process. Here you will see photojournaling, poetry, prose, an occasional review--journaling or philosophical writing can be found on our other blogs. This is our attempt to use our imaginations. Enjoy!

Monday, May 28, 2007

In the Arithmetic of Shadows

I remembered the blood between my legs. Suddenly and without consequence it flowed. Dark. Almost brown. As old as I was. As young as I had once been. Ragged stocking on the mantle. Scabbed father christmases doling out happiness in empty boxes.

I counted the hues. A rainbow of red. The naked dandelions still fucking behind our flesh. I picked the colors. One by one. From the gullitone of his kiss.

A constant red.

The thirst of the armor. The stench of skin.

Still there, but ready to be removed.


cocaine jesus said...

you have the talent to blow away all the dusty cliches and write with such power. amazing.

Enemy of the Republic said...

The stench of skin. Excellent one!

Anonymous said...

"The thirst of the armor. The stench of skin," Love that one...! This is very good. I'll stop by here more often.... =)