Calling The Waters

Push until the fletching hits bone, a moment of clarity for a loss of control. We outran the overseers, we danced over their snares, we spat at their blooming crosses. Upon blurry re-entry, swollen with ecstasy and impact, we awoke with gold in our lungs.

Lush Omega

Bury my face in the olive branch’s shade. Enamored with willow praise. Analog angel hair balled into a rat’s nest. Even the defeated light slinks away. Near a man-made noose, inside a god-made gallows.