

11-10-06I practiced these words11-10-06
for weeks, that it felt like a mantra, a prayer, as I whispered them to your ear.
-- I prayed for the gods to hear me. I did my rituals, sitting in dark corners, whispering feverishly, weeping with pious faith.
And here in your arms, I said the same prayer over and over, copious tears dripping on your shoulders.
And you hushed me, a reverent smile gracing your face, a silent peace stealing over me.
-- the gods heard my plea that night, as sweet petals touched my lips, an ardent devoti


Un.an.tic.i.pat.edUnanticipatedUn.an.tic.i.pat.ed
Unanticipated, as I showered today, I watched long black strands of your hair coil like water snakes toward the drain, whipping their muscular way toward the sewer, slipping through the surge, singing silent songs of entropy as they left me to cry over the scent of your shampoo and the pitted razor blades that did not leave with you when death came to take you from our house and, before the kitchen felt my feet and fingers searching for routine, before the bed unmade me more than yesterday, I again &nbs


I Carved Your NameSpill:I Carved Your Name
Onwards and upwards and upwards and onwards, I climb the steps in a rhythm that synchrnises with my syncopated breaths and in time with my aching muscles that throb with every footstep[. I climb the low stone steps of the abbey, worn down with pilgrimages much more pious than mine, but mine is more important because I need to see I want to know if the world remembers your name where I carved it in the stone like I promised I would to you. I still remember you, frozen in time like the cold stone under my hands where I pull myself up by the banister, and I remember you the way you used to be, before you strted tre
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Currently reading: Pratchett and Gaiman - Good Omens
*The-Literati =Inked-Page
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