-Stalling
Is it — ? ah
so fine so
final
Is it — ? ah
so fine so
final
The Glass Spire
- Thread starter UmbraSight
- Start date
-Lasting
Oh — the crow croaks
your name as —
I offer him a scattering of
seed and bones
not yet cleaned — of
gristle
if only
in only
ah —
my name — from your lips
would it be so sweet
to hear —
again — again
he pecks away
and just one more —
just once more —
can he say — ?
Oh — the crow croaks
your name as —
I offer him a scattering of
seed and bones
not yet cleaned — of
gristle
if only
in only
ah —
my name — from your lips
would it be so sweet
to hear —
again — again
he pecks away
and just one more —
just once more —
can he say — ?
-Sail Through
These westerly winds
catch cloth
catch clouds
fill the sky
with a
rain of petals
that flitter in graceful drifts
and the couple
youth edging away
watch the petals
as the dirt is struck
and their blacks
shimmer
These westerly winds
catch cloth
catch clouds
fill the sky
with a
rain of petals
that flitter in graceful drifts
and the couple
youth edging away
watch the petals
as the dirt is struck
and their blacks
shimmer
-Unseelie
Your name — oh
so sweet upon my tongue
as wine unwatered —
or a custard —
not yet needing a
sprinkle
of sugar to hide the
— sour
yes, your name
tell me it true
tell me
oh — tell me
and you can
stay —
oh — you will
Stay
Your name — oh
so sweet upon my tongue
as wine unwatered —
or a custard —
not yet needing a
sprinkle
of sugar to hide the
— sour
yes, your name
tell me it true
tell me
oh — tell me
and you can
stay —
oh — you will
Stay
-Release
Hear it? Hear
that? The room is still
and dark
and still you
opened your eyes
and stared
but did you hear it
in a dream
in a toss or turn
upon your bed?
or, was that not
no, hold your breath
still your heart
is that the fan
or just a sound below
or within
tangled
houses creak in the night, they settle into the earth, they shift in the wind. You settle into the night, covers pulled close and still, and still and — ah, no, your eyes are still open, have they adjusted? Are you adjusted? Are your glasses in reach because that shape in the corner is new. Are its edges shifting? Does the house not groan when they do? Do you not groan when they do? What is there to do?
In you room
already?
You can hear
it
breathing
high in the
back of its throat
and you
you are in your bed
what is there
to do
but
close your eyes
and hope
to
sleep
Hear it? Hear
that? The room is still
and dark
and still you
opened your eyes
and stared
but did you hear it
in a dream
in a toss or turn
upon your bed?
or, was that not
no, hold your breath
still your heart
is that the fan
or just a sound below
or within
tangled
houses creak in the night, they settle into the earth, they shift in the wind. You settle into the night, covers pulled close and still, and still and — ah, no, your eyes are still open, have they adjusted? Are you adjusted? Are your glasses in reach because that shape in the corner is new. Are its edges shifting? Does the house not groan when they do? Do you not groan when they do? What is there to do?
In you room
already?
You can hear
it
breathing
high in the
back of its throat
and you
you are in your bed
what is there
to do
but
close your eyes
and hope
to
sleep
-Spinning
upon the heel we
twist and feel the
stir of
silk and the rhythm
of the violinist’s
strings
catch my eye
dear what else is there to
see? Aye I’ve seen gold’s
polished shine
but the strands
of your hair
the whisper of
your fingers
around and around
until we
fall laughing
upon the heel we
twist and feel the
stir of
silk and the rhythm
of the violinist’s
strings
catch my eye
dear what else is there to
see? Aye I’ve seen gold’s
polished shine
but the strands
of your hair
the whisper of
your fingers
around and around
until we
fall laughing
-Lull
the witch
in the woods
for that is where witches
must reside
where dead oak never
quite rots
and lingers,
barren and
dark
are you clever child
ah, one might not
best a witch, but a clever child
certainly they could
impress?
the witch
in the woods
for that is where witches
must reside
where dead oak never
quite rots
and lingers,
barren and
dark
are you clever child
ah, one might not
best a witch, but a clever child
certainly they could
impress?
-Shifting
Sifting sliding
through fingers
and palms to make
little rivers
down your arms
cold and
clear
from some
faraway melting
come to collect
in hollows
where rock gave to
time
so you might
wet your lips
and feel clean
for a time
Sifting sliding
through fingers
and palms to make
little rivers
down your arms
cold and
clear
from some
faraway melting
come to collect
in hollows
where rock gave to
time
so you might
wet your lips
and feel clean
for a time
-Teetertottertither
dip and dive
loop hither
upon the heel
loose and
wobble unscrewed and
turning tight and
burning
dip and dive
loop hither
upon the heel
loose and
wobble unscrewed and
turning tight and
burning
-Witch
Water pools
around her ankles
where sand had been
lost to the ebb
she watches out
across the crash
and sparkle — her
slender fingers
work in fluttering
wavesthe sea is not
still
save for a moment
she took —to catch
a wispy
strand of hair touched
by the breeze
Water pools
around her ankles
where sand had been
lost to the ebb
she watches out
across the crash
and sparkle — her
slender fingers
work in fluttering
wavesthe sea is not
still
save for a moment
she took —to catch
a wispy
strand of hair touched
by the breeze
-Cove
Water upon the
stone — crashing hard where
salt gathers
in cervices
in shabby crystals
crabs comb through
the sand for gifts
from the rising surf
their lives within
this little cave
to never know another rock
here, home
here, the world
Water upon the
stone — crashing hard where
salt gathers
in cervices
in shabby crystals
crabs comb through
the sand for gifts
from the rising surf
their lives within
this little cave
to never know another rock
here, home
here, the world
-Still
Smoke chokes the blue
horizon — drifting free
of the rough — cut
stone of the —
archers late into
a third or fourth
watch — to distract
from that gnawing emptiness
of rations halved and
then again
until one could
simply wish
for the charge
and
crash
for it would
end
Smoke chokes the blue
horizon — drifting free
of the rough — cut
stone of the —
archers late into
a third or fourth
watch — to distract
from that gnawing emptiness
of rations halved and
then again
until one could
simply wish
for the charge
and
crash
for it would
end