8 oclock rush by 8 she was usually ready, still pink from her bath fingers and toes thawed for movement she most often would drink her coffee standing in front of the splattered mirror to see which line looked the deepest calculating distance and time from one point to the next she missed the traffic report, and spilled the lotion into the bowl of the stained sink, hangnails stretched across her powdered face and left too bright a rosy color for this time of year she didnt think anyone would...

magpie faerie its almost 8 on monday night it was a beautiful day, still warmer than it should have been.. my mind felt clearer than it has in several days its not usual that i can feel the tinkling of bones and safety pins strung together instead of hearing it. and ive missed you again... in the seconds i take my eye off the horizon, you vanish like the magpies... wings scattered through hair, knotted with power. tiny skeleton keys open hallways that lead me through the plum sweet sunset. on...

paper lanterns i woke up hot in the night, sweat rolling from my face and i kicked off covers,white hot staring wide eyed into the darkness. voices lifting paper lanterns into the deep, scattered across the ceiling in the silence, winds blew hotter in my december sleep than i had ever known spinning stories of red coated animals whose ears twisted to hear the sound. fires blazed behind my pillow, droplets rolled into uncontrolable waves, washing tiny white houses like matchsticks into the ind...