It's a nice day for a latte and a wrecking ball Inner beauty can't be seen but words kill So powerful they cast a spell of utter destruction inside my chest What once was buildings is now just sky with little clouds and little birds, chirping
Que Saran, Saran
In my youth, I was pretty - my skin so smooth. Then I got used - stretched out - I was clingy - A cover for others' purposes. Now I'm wrinkled and frumpy and no one is interested in me. At least I fulfilled my destiny.
Acquired Taste
Love is in my mouth - on its roof - like a seldom used broiler now stuck on. My breath runs hot - like a quiet dragon huffing to itself. Will I ever express the burning word? - or maybe it is just a gentle kiss.
Oh, you Devil!
After all that therapy, I can finally stand to see myself. My horns shine, regrown from when I filed them down. My tail twitches, untucked from between my legs. My hooves tap, unshod à la Shoeless Joe, how apropos. My bed blazes made all ready for when I lie down in it.
Self-contradiction
I have spent my whole life developing a theory justifying living untheoretically.
Kintsugi
A favorite item can't be replaced. The cup I was - I liked to drink out of - is broken now. Was it my fault? Was it my faults? - the fault lines that make it so easy to break? No! In defiance... No! In love... with, of, for myself In the fire, I bleed gold and heal. Resplendent! My faults No! My spangles My Self
Lightning Bolts
A supersaturated atmosphere of raw energy envelops us, creating a million potential tributaries. Any lucky one elucidates its burning connection up to heaven, rightly, quaintly, evoking God.
Plum Dumplings
You delighted me proclaiming you were making them It was the best thing I had ever heard of You asked for sugar I gave you salt Thus, my first taste of heaven was horror Oh, Karma Still the best thing I imagine Just a little care on my part the missing ingredient
Vault of Heaven
Child monk Full of sin What does it matter! blissfully oblivious God cradles you A footpath lifts you above the ravine A gentle breeze kisses your cheek A tumult gusts in the tree tops merely to thrill your devilish little heart
Blazen Rites
It was a hard winter though it rarely froze In a pleasant, desperate search I walk the entire park for respite A tuft of purple crocuses The sniff of a dog Little waterfalls The bend of the river Will it be enough? Intuition indicates the right path I hesitate, but take it Such a long walk — for what? and to go the whole way — it's getting late I reach the horses’ ring The naked woods are on fire The bold sun hovers atop the hill yonder, its rays a kaleidoscopic crown, as if waiting for me the whole time