Mouse is in the wall.
He listens for your breathing.
Mouse is in the wall.
Whiskers on the outside of your inside,
he feels for signs of loss.
Homes in empty spaces,
halls between our thoughts.
Mouse is in the wall.
He listens for the cracks,
the notches and the secrets.
A tiny nose vibrates,
an eager tail explores.
Mouse is in the wall.
He writes his unseen stories,
surrounding you like dust.
The money breaks.
The high-rise falls.
The ground thunders.
The skies fault.
Mouse does not flinch.
This is meaningless to him.
Mouse is in the wall.
If you listen, you can see,
if you focus, you can hear.
The blank spaces crawl
Like everyday, we kneeled down to pray;
We prayed for the Good Lord to take us home,
To flee Lucifer's wrath and Satan's gaze.
We wear the same helmets and the same thoughts,
Yet our final Amen echoed little
A gunshot had disrupted that still night.
We rushed outside with our teeth chattering.
It had been a rather warm July night,
But we shivered in fear of a lost chance.
There he lay, with a bullet to his head
And a folded note that lay forgotten;
Three words circled our minds: Adam was dead.
We spent that night shedding tears of envy;
We prayed for the Good Lord to take us home,
But it seemed God did not want us today.
She crouches on the sidewalk, blinks saltwater from her eyes. A cold sun shines on her back, catching the silver at her neck and turning it into a collar of light. She looks peaceful, sad, with slumped shoulders and a tilted head. Passers-by, though there are few this time of day, give her a wide berth. Something sacred hangs in the air, and not even the businessman, late to work and with coffee down his front, wants to disturb it.
She pauses, leans back, smiles. Wipes purple dust from her hands and onto her jeans. No one has noticed it yet, but they will. She touches her fingertips to her lips, then the pavement.
A tentative hope ri
-
on venus
hearts would cluster in
ladybug swarms pulsing
anxiety, wings courting light
to seek the advice of this
rosette-clad oracle.
i'd reply with a
delphic smile,
tenderly pronounce love as
a tea leaf only the holder
can divine and
send them on their way,
infatuation crowning their
arteries like a dandelion-seed
halo; besotted bewilderment
diffusing in the cosmic
kaleidoscope of
cupid's psyche.
-
on mars
l