2007-01-10

what a strange little girl.

Pilgrims never cease to amaze me.
shots in the dark. bullets into light. immeasurable sacrifices completely obliterate any negative energy that may be buzzing around their bodies. they recite unknown words in the universe spoken through idioglossia as if spoken through the eyes of two autistic children. whispered motions through space so expanded there is no room for error. we err in not erring at all and so we do not. we sleep among the fallen leaves and ferns and did not notice our pillows as rocks with gentle hands resting under sleepy minds. the willows swaying in the breeze to the tune of forgotten time. waterfalls in veins and their tingling spines. gazes that seem to shoot out from the sun.
I watch the pilgrims, all unwinding like tired tumbleweeds.

--------
I think...
you are just acrobats in the psychic misdemeanor i call my history.
if you are a warrior, i think it means you live just above the moment the action will stop.
of course these fragments are incomplete, yet, so am i.
--------

the stars
like visible gods
inspire all eyes
like secret astrologers
giving meaning to the light
and brightening the dark
------
children run
down stairwells
as if the master
swingset awaits them
and though we think
they do not know
the wisest has
embraced them
-------

he spoke in tongues
he did not know
with god in his mouth
and gold in his eyes
that I did not speak his language
but when he dismissed himself
my stitches blew open
like a bomb in my ribcage
and everyone surrounding me
became a painting
of colours unexplainable
------------

I heard you coming after me
like cicadas on the telephone lines
I felt the streetlights
dancing on the roads
and i
kneeling down so low
in the middle of my room
felt it all dissolve
until all i could do
was smell you
from the other side
of the window.
----------
twenty six
after 5 a
dark
sparkle of the moon
sits on the sill
it knocks
it
off
the blade like
a paring.

Katrina at 3:29 AM

2007-01-10

what a strange little girl.

Pilgrims never cease to amaze me.
shots in the dark. bullets into light. immeasurable sacrifices completely obliterate any negative energy that may be buzzing around their bodies. they recite unknown words in the universe spoken through idioglossia as if spoken through the eyes of two autistic children. whispered motions through space so expanded there is no room for error. we err in not erring at all and so we do not. we sleep among the fallen leaves and ferns and did not notice our pillows as rocks with gentle hands resting under sleepy minds. the willows swaying in the breeze to the tune of forgotten time. waterfalls in veins and their tingling spines. gazes that seem to shoot out from the sun.
I watch the pilgrims, all unwinding like tired tumbleweeds.

--------
I think...
you are just acrobats in the psychic misdemeanor i call my history.
if you are a warrior, i think it means you live just above the moment the action will stop.
of course these fragments are incomplete, yet, so am i.
--------

the stars
like visible gods
inspire all eyes
like secret astrologers
giving meaning to the light
and brightening the dark
------
children run
down stairwells
as if the master
swingset awaits them
and though we think
they do not know
the wisest has
embraced them
-------

he spoke in tongues
he did not know
with god in his mouth
and gold in his eyes
that I did not speak his language
but when he dismissed himself
my stitches blew open
like a bomb in my ribcage
and everyone surrounding me
became a painting
of colours unexplainable
------------

I heard you coming after me
like cicadas on the telephone lines
I felt the streetlights
dancing on the roads
and i
kneeling down so low
in the middle of my room
felt it all dissolve
until all i could do
was smell you
from the other side
of the window.
----------
twenty six
after 5 a
dark
sparkle of the moon
sits on the sill
it knocks
it
off
the blade like
a paring.

Katrina at 3:29 AM