I wonder if getting lost is just a reminder of how bright your bones shine As if there are lighthouses laughing along your spine when you bend the small of your back
Our breath cradled in parachute lungs exhaling the shorelines of San Francisco immigrants The scent of spam friend rice smothered our nostrils My grandfather’s accent avalanched into my own but being American meant to fasten our flesh from skull to tongue to speaking English only
Last night was Part II of the “Slaughterhouse” recording. Graham Davis on trumpet FTW!
patiently slicing through skin and muscle, bone and viscera, cracking skulls and...– Between XX and XY Intersexuality and the Myth of Two Sexes
Your arched back bends like a crater as if gravity is in your voice pulling
It’s Friday night and I am home alone Thoughts steam ironed into the back room of my bones the television on for the bounce of someone’s voice box that is not mine I wonder if I am practicing for my casket but then I remember seeds soak in sunlight whether they are alone or not Flourishing
Hidden beneath my voice box sleeps a hurricane breath To see… Shake me
love is the force that pulls me to the concrete when you drop me cause it...– Henry Luke
Troy there is a steam boat engine heart hidden beneath you railroad ribs When you set out to sail know that every iceberg storm has an ocean of horizon behind it Don’t be afraid to sail
Oppressive language does more than represent violence; it is violence; does more...– Toni Morrison | Nobel Lecture, 1993 (via homotronic)
When we were young our voice boxes slow danced along the grace of our grins like hot air balloons A wicker basket laugh cascading down the skyline of our chin We learned to glide better than engines ever knew how Propelling our smiles like helicopter wings We learned to pilot our voice
Writing Circle Free Write
I bend letters into back bridges when you flex the grip of my tip commanding the shape of colors to cartwheel I caress the necklines of bare buildings You can equip the torch of my grin with flares that bathe walls in sunrise or snap fat caps to my face to throw up the city in flames The can is my body with metal for skin my figure is cold when pressed against your abdomen I’m concealed from...
I’ll whisper the beaches in my breath down the shore of your neckline and ask you Have you always known that lovers love each other best when they have learned to love themselves first That sand castles have crumbled only to be rebuilt once again That shorelines are pulled beneath tides but never washed away I have unveiled the constellations in my voice too they shine brightest when they...