Cellar floods. Floods with mead. Her veins do. Her veins flood mead. Lambent. As a warm-stoned room. Castled in it. Castling. Layering. She's a bearskin. Castled a bearskin rug. Held. Midroar held in the roar. Five seconds five hundred years. Five seconds five hundred. Liquid. #vss365 #lambent

(monolithic bulk softening to grey, in the fogwreathed far distance)

You are pale but unqualified.You will never be a ghost or spectre. You can pretend to haunt forests, glide through fog as if you can disappear but you will always shine too brightly. You will never scare. Things will approach cautiously but will never be afraid. #vssdaily unqualified #vss365 ghost

#Ghost is the shape of wanting after a body. You can touch yourself to feel the outline, the shape desire carves. You are the empty space another's need has made. If you open, the wanting wants in, flooding you with shapelessness. A ghost has no shape but has yours, traced. #vss365

#Pain maybe it's a kind of covenant we need this signal that something's wrong and our practice is to gently notice to listen and to thank it #vss365

#Pain insists on skin insisting nerve. And sovereignty to be known self where you begin. I cats cradle nerves into prayer into lexicon. In truth, you can be a disciple of anything. Pain. Here. Now. A kind of love lettering. Unfurl your hands. Pleasuretwin, let me give you this. #vss365

She soothes him by blow-drying his balls on the cool setting after a hot shower. She passes him a box of shiny red alarm clocks to throw at the neighbours. One by one. They explode like apples. He reminds her of bottle rockets. She accompanies him proudly, on a slide whistle. #vss365 #soothe

bright winter morning light slides across the table rainbows fill this glass

clouds breaking swans land on grey skies in the field #DailyHaikuPrompt (pasture)

Frozen water on the window pane, magic is everywhere. ❄️

#vss365 He awoke standing with an unfamiliar kid in his arms. It began to squirm, and his body took over, #soothing the child, speaking in a familiar voice. He had been sleepwalking for so long, he was now just a passenger in his own body. He wondered what was keeping him tethered.

He soothes her like the rumble of a plane bulkhead, passengerless. Like snow drifting on the night of a snow moon. She doesn't know what else she could tell you about it. But if you look down there are sleepy, glowing farmhouses. #vss365 #soothe

When nature speaks I keep quiet Size 17 by 13 inch on paper Medium oil Original available

the city drips slowly into your throat, grinding you thin, a Rothko of oil clotted with soot on machined steel

and in the end just waves, and clouds, and light

the thrum of the train its rhythmic pulse rippling the sea between us rolling low lying clouds and velvet sky a sensual backdrop and you wind-kissed shadows flowering upon your skin intoxicated swaying in the sweet night in the thrall of this endless soft and dark #vss365

#thrum is hum, a sore garlic thumb. A red bird in a grizzling. Ghost. Yes it is not quite, but also. Buttering mustering yellow. Hyacinth carbonic kartoffeln, yes/no. The sun it is feathering. Rain to the feel miriam-miriam #vss365

#Obfuscate oblique in the line of descent outspoken next line keep to guide point motion junctions supplies conic section= locus constituted givencondition methods ends @opposed to Flowing only incoming object denoting those on whom weight limit difficulty child in the womb contention mistoo #vss365

A forest of ice crystals on the window. ❄️

He wants clarity like conquest like clean striped socks. She brings him obsfuscations. Yeasted doughs, peperomias in macramé, meringues of knotted cat hair. She lays them at his feet like microwaved mice. Well no one told her you shouldn't! Poor things. #vss365 #obsfuscate

The #quiver logic. She's a softshelled crab with it, hullscuttled with whatsheshouldn'tknow. He's full-snout and brooding; even the porch light is frowning. She steadies. The word both. Cupped. Like an egg. #vss365

#vss365 on borrowed time we held the #waning fire of summer in our hands painted daisies and beads of honeysuckle falling like diamonds your mood darkening with the turn of the leaves the sweet sorrow of an angel fingering the notes of the chill air snow drops hidden in the bone white of winter

The shatter is sublime.

Don't mistake waning for weakness. She's not disappearing. She's concentrating. Distilling herself to pure appetite. The Irreducible. Fangs in the heart of want. Incisors that remain when all that is soft burns away. Faultless, inside. Fatted. Pink lambneck of a threshing world. #vss365 #wane

#FoxProse paper planes aflame plummeting wings shorn of feathers a flickering light not for any reason just emotions flaring in that nascent dark a magnet that has no sense of true north why surrender to timid lines of electricity i need to bite into live wire and feel again

winter's spell hides life under hard snow, blurs time-lines searches old photos #thingstowriteabout (enchantment) ✨ #senryusunday #senryu #haiku #poem

The #Ruse is a jewel of nothingtaste. A skin prick of foxglove sap, unable to be swallowed, refusing to be buried—believe her, she has tried. In slant light it is angels' hum and opal. She warns them not to listen. They tell her there is no Ruse. She sees them. Itching. #vss365

thunderstorm arc-light; kilovolts surging through flesh– lichtenberg burnscar

acrid scorched-bone scent, pyrography on scrimshaw; letters coil in smoke

Song and sound. The little girl bounds across a beach of sand to a cold, flecked sea, splashing from knee to knee in the lap between waves, where, listening beneath, in the deep deep deep, she hears a willow of whales. They don't speak in vowels and consonants but sing of oceans and continents.

👋 🇳🇱

Subglacially. The ice knows. It has known since before names, before warmth. In the cold black, microbes. Extremophiles unfurling. 15 million years of silence, yearning, thrust against itself. Science. The dentist chair. The drill’s hot bite—a clean, intimate crack. Oh. Hello. #vss365

the bugle's last notes fade into two short minutes of silence #dailyhaikuprompt (fade) #haiku

fog borrows the bridge #haiku #poetry

the rain still falling the rain that fell yesterday all you can absorb

The Auditor found Theseus misfiled under Agriculture. Our hero was slowly plowing labyrinths in concentric furrows, subsisting on red stringy corn. "Another fragment in the wrong section," she tutted. Theseus looked up, wide-eyed. "Má Día! No! I've finally found peace." #vss365

Literature flickmouth of a ghost- turn celery clear flake bark / fat of meaning / felt of page a reliquary a fruit stone a marrow snow Read is to pulp a guttering suit breath shared to nothing it is a wooden suit #vss365 #Literature #poetry

It is the law and it is the law and it is the law. Enormous bird. Ugly wet embryonic. If you bury it. It will cry. You cannot. It wants to be held. You cannot. You put it inside grandma's shoebox. On TV they set themselves on fire. You will not you will not you will not. #vss365 #law

#vss365 watch your language! why, what’s it doing? having intercourse #language

This Autumn woodland path talks in bilirubin phrases Telling the story of spring and summer with #language made of colours and smells that permeate receptive minds Quiet is the wind Mist holds secrets Which winter will bury forever #vss365 Birch by Ullswater October 23rd 2023 #Photography

reverential touch; your scalpeltip, my shiver– we’ll remember this

what remains of her, the indigestible parts– gristle; stubborn spite

Post-migraine epistemological vertigo... Doctor! She’s trying to reduce emergent reality again...

#vss365 We spoke in a #language of “almost.” It was fluent, but not truly expressive. It didn’t serve us well.

A burn-script. Wingbeats translate: immolation—pure. Desire devours cellular language. Moth. Luminescent wound dissolving. Attraction looming over a delicate syntactical skin. Moth smiling with a world's hereity. Stuckjaw feeling of the moon between her teeth. Honeying. #vss365 #language

History sounds like quicksilver owls. Their silence is captivating. You sleep in a foraged quilt of phantom tastes. Somewhere mold powdering, the white bloom of forgotten oranges. You remain unafraid. Night breathes silk in jasmine. You float out of a window. You remain unafraid. #vss365 #history

The migraine is a country roadless radio slam- banging geography geography geography until syllables split pulp until mouth forgets lips until word loses north somewhere is a tar pit bubbling over crater-spit logic. Come like a cracked egg soft cover me in it. #vss365

pine sap balm reincarnation of a tree #haiku #DailyHaikuPrompt (pine sap)