sunlit-shadows

Sitting alone at the corner cafe, The rain falling down in a particular way And the warmth surrounding and filling me (the polished wood glowing, the refills are free) Peering through rain-streaked windows, safe and dry within I almost felt I was home again. Nice though it is, in this corner cafe, It will never be right (or home, anyway) The chairs are not wicker, there's no fireside glow Here, it's less common to rain than to snow The cloud-wreathed horizon's as straight as a line, not mountainous, swelling, and studded with pines. The streets of the city outside MY cafe all thronging with people and traffic delays, are thousan

In the coffee shop at midnight, under the fifty watt bulbs shining like lost desert suns, he treats the immaculate woman to coffee.  As she sips, she closes her eyes as if caught up in the bliss of a vampire's thirst, and he watches her, luxuriating in the midnight air perfumed with her life. "How do you like your coffee, my love?" "Four sugars and cream." Fog rises from the espresso mugs, mist rises from ancient graves, and he drains another cup of its black nectar. "How can you drink so much coffee, when blood is your sustenance?" "I like coffee laced with blood, but blood laced with coffee is better, if you'll let me.  How else d

Scientists say that every seven years you inhabit a new body; cells wither and grow with every exhalation until there is no remnant of the yuo that woke up seven years ago. Yet, one thing is not perennial. This mane stayed with me, measured the passing of the years with its inching growth, crept forth from my scalp slower than the movement of a flower as it opens. It curtained the swelling and tightening of the body beneath it and garnished the thoughts that ebbed and flowed below it. Until almost on my third new body, the weight of all that history bent my neck, and the curtain hid my face from the eyes of the world a

When did the sunrise begin? It seemed like the night went on forever. I don't know when my sunrise began, my love, but I know you drew it up through my throat, coaxed it into the chilly morning like Orpheus playing his lute. But once the sun goes down, the other calls you; like Eurycide, she lures you from me. But do not follow her into the underword as Orpheus did, and if you do, do not look back as you leave to return to my arms. Yes, I understand the dark allure of her brokenness, the instinct to try to mend with your saliva, to trade other secretions for secret tears. But hers is a land where there is no sunrise. Her gl

you don't know me- i think that's why i could love you. i reveal myself piece by piece, slowly, a striptease designed to intrigue you're like moving to a new country of boundless possiblity i can be anyone i want to be-anyone you want me to be, i will study you carefully and follow your cues (when in rome...) and when in doubt i will remain silent (only after you are in the shower will i close my eyes bury my face in your pillow and drink in the musk of you with helpless abandon) i wander the hallways of your history like that museum in a foreign country reverently picking up each artifact with the greatest care and turning

after the floods, i had a dream a few nights ago that the apocalypse came to seattle. there was an earthquake, and then a tsunami, two tornados, a propane tank explosion, and a train wreck. i saw the ground split in front of me on denny way and a giant wave engulf the new condos downtown. i ran up a hill away from the chaos, pulling a towheaded little girl along behind me, helping her scramble across cracks in the concrete. a tornado slowly made its way across belltown, ripping a path through chainlink fences and a 7-11 gas station, and was joined by another tornado that sucked the top of the space needle into its vortex, where it sp

I want to be a freedom fighter graffiti artist slam poet righteous babe vampire punk singer guitar player rebel pilot sci-fi writer glamourpuss exotic dancer badass tattooed bartender biker chick vintage granny coat wearing chainsmoker red lipsticked white sunglasses rainbow haired half-naked and looking damn fine too painted toenails and calloused feet on the beach sucking a lollipop and swinging brass knuckles peeing standing up in a tutu reflexes like a cat taking down men twice her size speaking five languages piloting five different kinds of vehicles black belt in seven different kinds of martial arts been to every continen

Sometimes that feeling would come over her, that crazy feeling, and she knew that tonight something was going to happen.  She dressed carefully and with a purpose, a celebratory air, examining herself in the mirror and then discarding a skirt or changing shoes until she achieved the desired effect.  She looked at herself in the cheap full length mirror from Target, trying to see herself as a stranger from across the bar might see her- out of the corner of an eye.  She wanted that short glimpse to be enough to haunt the imagination of some random man.  She didn't care who it was or what he looked like- she just liked to imagine that tomorrow m

second string player b-list celebrity a built in obsolescense this is what will become of me. _____________________________ fuck five times a day drink an entire pot of coffee don't go home till the sky turns orange in the morning keep on going until the crash is there anyone who can keep up with me? are my daily habits too extreme?

the idea of spring and summer make me sick. too-long days where i kept the coldness inside of me. at least in the winter i could blame it on the weather. but summer days are long and cruel when the real sun is a paltry substitute unable to stop the shivering the agony of withdrawal from a drug i could never get enough of constantly in fear of running out of it. without it the sun was a glaring light bulb providing no heat, and the moon was a construction paper circle pasted onto a dead sky. so i'd sleep all day to whittle away the uselessness of time. walk for hours on a path that never stretched far enough, and pretend th