Anya

I like diet cherry coke.

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Trickle down economics

Ode to the saltwater

For it trickles, to prickle

A patch of skin, not yet forgiven.

For it buries food,

Not yet a dime, Not yet a taste.

It trickles, to fickle

a friend ablaze in this weather.

Ode to the saltwater,

For it catches its rain dry,

and not a drop to spare.

It trickles, to tickle,

The mind of the “fair”.

-Anya Asher

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fly me too the moon.

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Banana bread scones

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Mourning Glory

My Ivy, your vines remain shards of nothing,

Just a silken mohair, and a slender stream.

Of which you flow, wade oceans of south,

And sing the saltwaters a silver’s wind.

Ivy, your vines, a willow’s catkins,

nether of which you veil, the summer’s gold.

My Ivy, your iris, an oak’s mortal coil.

Your laugh, the echo of flutes in tune.

Your cry, the reflection of a war gong.

Now an ash a penny, not a dime a taste.

For my tongue remains untouched,

From wine, now named disdain.

My love, for all your petals,

I'd trade all my wine.

Yet, soon you are to wither.

Into oak’s roots and a willow’s soil.

You linger in my whispers,

Shards of Ivy, tangling my tongue,

With secrets of mohair,

Which you'd murmur when you were young.

—Anya Asher

Ts about my dead child 🧟‍♀️

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What an odd picture

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The moon is a time bomb.

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New Moon, No moon.

By me, coming soon!

Xx

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Gemini

“Dear lamb, allow me your wool”

“Dear lamb, allow me your marrow”

my fire utters me “saint”

My seed a sin, my heart a fallow.

The scale a thrall to my lamb.

Vice shackles my ankles slytherin,

For I, convict to the serpentry of freedom.

Dear lamb, allow me mohair,

A life of silk, my tongue a saw.

Only remnants of wire embrace my flower of flavor.

Dear lamb, do you taste wire?

I smell ammonia nearby.

Dear lamb, I want not much,

Just cashmere, in the Arctic.

A need for the poles I chose to live in.

My fire utters me “Saint”,

My digits, unfathomable to your marrow

For my ardor, kind.

And my lust a flame.

The scale of law, a shattered mirror,

For when Janus reigns upon, the coin lands upright.

-Anya Asher

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Winterfylleth Thrush

A fair quota, of joy

quartered allying the solstice December.

And my very fire for all Hallow's Eve

although, I fell through heaviest snow,

I fall 3 moons, past, Winterfylleth.

This age, no hoax under my crone’s pot.

My fingers ceded every hearth,

(Fortuity! absolutely)

and what jolt! just a ball, moiety none,

for, now our skin a mesh veiling,

a corse of two.

-Anya Asher

Event Horizon Trilogy: Poem#3

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Maple

Autumn assails per epoch,

She limns every maple buried. a troth the chasmic drilling my core

the ardor sempiternal to ever croak.

The jigsaw falls, maps me out.

a quake runs my ribs, the pendulum tallies a warning

For my Swainson to kite away.

I won't pen myself aficionado, yet l am fortuitous evermore

To pen,

Inside this mortal coil, utters my ribbed treasure:

never revered tittle comraderie, which not shared with you.

- Anya Asher

Event Horizon Trilogy: Poem #2

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Crescendo

My youth, soap to fingers of silk,

for all my thirst for love is water.

I mourn all picture frames,

And hark the clock singing.

Classic metronome staccato

the echo screams

tick tick tick tick

and now I am a century

tick tick tick tick.

-Anya Asher

Event Horizon Trilogy: Poem #1

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Summer’s over.

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The sunshine girl is sleeping.

@justt-emmx

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I will be married to silence

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The Interversal Law of Repulsion 🌌

What if the multiverse remains a mystery because we aren't supposed to find it?

I wrote a theory, a poetic one, a scientific one maybe even a little terrifying about how our universe is expanding but we still haven't found the multiverse, why they still haven't touched.

About how we all might be geminis, doomed to repel ourselves, about light, masks, graphs, the silence behind the stars.

To unravel the mystery, read the full theory here:

https://open.substack.com/pub/anyaasher/p/the-interversal-law-of-repulsion?r=3g4rga&utm_medium=ios

The Interversal Law of Repulsion

Earth is an island adrift in a deep sea we call the Milky Way.

-Anya Asher

© 2025 Anya Asher. All rights reserved. No part of this essay may be reproduced without permission.

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So If you fall, you land on a cloud

(please get the reference)

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