Ouroboros

DON’T MAKE COMMENTS ON CHILDREN’S WEIGHT

This is the fucking reason for my disorder

One Day Here

We're neither of us angels

I

The crowd of lesser demons gnawing at my thoughts doesn’t come from us –

my mind circles because our moments won’t stand still to be captured.

I only haunt myself when you’re not in reach to remind me I haven’t died.

II

I weave secrets, around you, over you, yet in your presence nothing is hidden,

not even the carelessness of my wishing. You are the pennies winking low in the well,

taunting me. Every past moment of wistfulness for someone I hadn’t met yet arriving

with the grace and fluidity of rain now distils fears to the nightmare of losing this.

III

No angels will save us – still a barter better than any

offered at the crossroads. I’ll love the demons to death.

windows open season. waking up to birdsong season. smelling the dewy grass season. twirling in a long skirt season. life feels worth living again season. taking all of my meals outside of possible season. reasoning how far I can get by bike ride and pedaling out anyway season.

i care btw. i care abt the song ur listening to or the bug u saw or how u just got outta the shower or how ur happily hanging out w ur friends or how ur kinda sad or how good was the meal u just had or ur fav character from an indie game nobody knows or if u chugged down some water. i always will

Music of the Planet

In My Own Oubliette

The ducks by Stonegate

A pair of mallards sits on a

Manicured stone by an

Artificial fountain

Ah, the massive continuity of ducks

Here there be lakes,

(Or ponds, or even fountains)

Here there be ducks.

THE METEOROLOGIST SAYS SUN