A window holds its breathas the day thins to a pale wash.Frost gathers at the corners,soft as dust.Someone walks past,coat brushing the airand sending in a brief drift of coldthat sharpens a thoughtthe way cold sometimes does—clean, immediate,quietly sure...

From living,  to memory,  to dust,  to forgotten.    My beloved, so many pictures, so pretty your grave, so sadly forgotten.    From heat of blushes, to the cold of death, to existing in memory only, to forgotten dust in the wind. 

How long will it take to get you out of my system Out of my mind Away from my soul I never wanted this much This deeply I couldn't fathom That I could be like them Wanting Willing Hoping I’m next I’m never next At best I am a thought At worst A...

Someone heard the explosionor maybe it was the sky cracking its own skull open.The air twitches.The ground gnaws.Everything vibrates like a nerve that refuses anesthesia. The glass on the floor is no longer glass.It is a swarm of mouths,crooked, trembling,chewing...