Death, love

Resting Endearment

 

Confluent in my mouth,
Tonight I taste the turmeric essence of
Everything you told

That endearing echo remains
The nickname that gave
Oh โ€œlittle one, little oneโ€
Eventually must age
And
The thread frays

Like an untouchable
Covered in ashes of the thousands
From the same fire of the pyre
An atlas, we all must toil

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Art by: Gregory Colbert

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Echo Muses, love

Love Formations

The enormity of love, sliding down
in your slot canyon
Iโ€™m isolated by your beauty,
consumed in the dreams of youth
Abandoning centuries
for this kind of love

I feel apart of it esculating
and you want me paramount
But I feel my ancient hurts spinning in the wind
Cocooning me with prickles of whispers,
and whimpering lies that are winding my clay heart brittle

 

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Mine Na Poem 8.

Hannah Rae Lark

Hannah, you always soared higher than the skylark. Your dawn song, the loudest, banishing all the darkness of our childhood days.

I often tried to mimic the way you caught their attention, your energy, your beauty, your unshattered confidenceโ€”how you sought more life then the day could bring.

You showed me how to be brave through all our youthful escapades. Held my hand when we jumped into that crystal dusk lake.                                                              It’s okay, the fish will only caress your legs. 

When we climbed out on that roof, it mattered not what season…The country midnight fields echoed our laughter. Your voice booming the loudest and aliveness for the both of us.

When did you start banishing the day? Throwing fire at the sun?                                                      You’re battling against your strengths.

Yes, there is time to lie under the grieving rock, but the moss has begun to grow on top. And the air pockets are closing in on your withdrawal. It must be hot!? 

In the stark night, you pour poison down your throat, but you’re not meant for this bitterness. Even so you broke your wing, the dawn still misses your summoning.

I’m only your little sister, but I’ll fly and sing out…Tell the sun you’re just under the shade. That your song will shimmer in the reflective morning again. Once your done being the Nova of the night.

Poem and Photo by : Naomi Ruth S. W.

Video: Heather Nova – Throwing Fire At The Sun

 

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