luminus-nox

[luminus-nox]

Mucibaba, Old Mountain by djotev on Flickr.

[syntaxandsemantics]

we arrive as the clouds break, raindrops shattered glass and we climb out as life rushes past us, whoosh and splash of deepening puddles and i stare at the rainbow streaks of grease in muddy water and realise dirt can be beautiful too and i look  at your black hands and remember why we were ever anywhere  together and you pull your jacket over your head but it’s too late and we are both wet and you are calm like the eye while the weather rages, i think of transference and electrons as the sky lights up your face and you look at me and see something i’ve forgotten

[s3xdrugsr0cknroll]

[luminus-nox]

Tiny Humans Walking Perito Moreno Glacier by Walk Robins on Flickr.

[pr0meteus]

[syntaxandsemantics]

we are two pieces of furniture. i am an ottoman. there are feet on my head, dirty shoes. they are heavy. push us together. you have four legs, all squared. low profile, no back. minimalist. you are barely there. barely anything. still expensive. we don’t match. i belong somewhere else, some place full of clutter i can hide in. you are too good looking for that. a center piece. show-home style. push us together. we touch, a little reluctantly.

[vinstage]

[luminus-nox]

by des.i.ree on Flickr.

[chromeus]

[bitesizedpoetry]

Mapping a World Without You [Poem]

I trace a house to another with roaring rivers that are capable of swallowing arks whole.

I rearrange the skies so that there is no eternal chase; the sun and moon dangle like dim light bulbs flickering on, off, on, off.

Half the world’s melted the other, a desert.

All I have are streets left unnamed; clocks that tell secrets other than time; the clouds, grey and heavy; and the flowers, not quite blooming not quite wilting:

merely existing.

[luminus-nox]

Tea. by Ofelia . on Flickr.

[luminus-nox]

by fgbyi on Flickr.

[luminus-nox]

by a lonely tea bag on Flickr.

[luminus-nox]

Multnomah Falls, 16 degrees by Zeb Andrews on Flickr.

[luminus-nox]

Foreigner by GraceAdams on Flickr.

[luminus-nox]

Mountains by ►CubaGallery on Flickr.

[bitesizedpoetry]

i am a willow in a forest of redwood

i’d have roots that claw their way upwards instead, out of the earth, if i were a tree.

because this kind of feeling needs the sun on its face.

and it’s so strong, it starts to feel so right.

but this feeling’s so wrong, it’s beginning to feel so natural after all.

i have woodpeckers instead of butterflies in my stomach and

i named a hurricane after you, but turns out, there’s nothing sadder than being the only house left standing among piles of debris.

i’ve always thought there was something beautiful about destruction, and destruction has always left me feeling beautiful.

i mean, i’ve been hearing sirens in the distance all my life. and i’ve got more missed calls than the police station’s gotten rung in the past couple of years.

but i realise there’s no one who could really fall in love more with the sun than a wilting rose.

and more than anything, this makes me feel like a rose that’d already wilted.