tullyot's profile

She spread vasoline on the mirror, stood back, head tipped right. She was clearly there  at both ends of the streak. But her eyes went back and back again to that thick merky spot mid streak. She threw her soul at it, thumped the distortion she had become.    In one pane, in one vein, was the one she's been, and the one she's been with, who strokes her countlessly, shiny and crackless, sparkling, with nothingness. She was there, clear blue eyes pinned her down. &...

She spread vasoline on the mirror saw herself clear at both ends of the streak, but eyes were glued to that thick and merky spot mid streak. She threw her soul at it, to swim and float and fight the waves of distortion.     In one pane, in one vein, was the one she's been, the one she's been with, who strokes her countlessly, shiny and crackless, sparkling with nothing.     Slid across the smear, was again her face, shapeless, lost within another's. He's less defined, less...

Distorted little bombs drift down, dragging pink lipped parachutes. Continuously you cast, Yet, your mouth has never dared to bite into a meal I digest. You want them landing on me,detinating, except they can't. I'm not on the ground anymore. ****** Someone sends smiling pufflings from the clouds, who have cute names and happy stories. They bounce softly over my wall. Land on the rest of my day. ***** He says you control your bombs until you drop them but once free they can turn around rever...

Divinity Ar-Rashid sits quietly across a table from me one night. He spins a U.S. coin, round and round, looks at me, lasers of night through lashes of day. I dive deep into him, so far I cannot find my way out. Years ago, on Him l spread my trust. We carved deep on my back symbol of our journey. That jagged and bloody knife then lay ominously on a stone pallet, Awaiting its next cut. Until a stranger with eyes of storms and sunrises, picked it up and spun it, letting it fall in its own direc...

Nestled in Destiny’s palm, he dreams in woolen whites and balmy blues. Wings of lace doves lay in waiting on his back. Leg and arms, like sprouts of fiddleheads, curl up underneath him. Head turned, eyes closed, his lashes grow towards the light like stems of sunflowers. Here he quietly keeps his spirit for us. Silver breath, fresh and agile, Gathers in lofty lungs a little more each day. It waits to pair with his little racing heartbeat, To glide into our world on top of his first melodious ...