god ghosted
I kneel, keel, keen at an empty rock shrine
Worshipper to my sinfulness:
When you were mine
seen from China
seen from Türkiye

seen from Mexico

seen from Mexico
seen from Canada

seen from United States

seen from Mexico

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom

seen from France

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from Mexico
seen from France

seen from Mexico

seen from United States

seen from United States
god ghosted
I kneel, keel, keen at an empty rock shrine
Worshipper to my sinfulness:
When you were mine
Trollhunters
Season 1: this is a pretty good show
Season 2: omg, this is the best thing I've seen in years
Rewatching season 1: (tears streaming down my face) why didn't I appreciate this more, this is amazing
Me now: book is being shipped to me for Christmas, and eagerly awaiting season 3 and other tales from Arcadia
golden
Bronzed arms, dans mes bras. Dappled.
Shimmering sunset on a broad, soft curve.
Your soles press against white-hot ash. Deserted.
She beams. Her maternal heat spreads across your bones.
Iron drumming eyelids, burnished ingot weighing light in your mouth. Champagne fizz.
Does last night even matter?
Take a dip, full immersion. Azure, assured, gelatine haze.
But eternal warmth to shroud you.
See the Madonna, weeping out not in grief but in reverie.
A wide-brimmed halo and linen wings. Donned!
You sway, as the auspicious palms do.
And you are all right.
magic
i touched you once
scaly hands, scabby nails
thought you liked me like that
bony, snarky, pale
i lay on my throne
my lavish riches consume me
but a stranger could devour them
if i could once more meet thee
our skin never did kiss again
oh boy, we couldn’t fly
did I touch you or claim you
treasured memory, mind’s eye?
narcissus
look at me!
i am the jocund jonquil
toot my horn
dusk ‘til dawn
perfect pout, oh?
daffodils are out.
i paint my petals carmine
if I bind these pretty petals of mine
will you see me as a rose?
discover me, rare rose exposed.
your petals thin, you wilt. your stalk is tangled, your dirt is dry. your pallor is sallow. you are bald and disgraced.
*lo, I am graceful!*
feel my pull
my tantalising beauty –
look at me, look at me!
creation to mutation to inspiration.
willow
I grew up with you towering over me
Holding my parents in your leaves
So clear, gilded dancer
Blonde fronded movie star
New house: A coffin,
Pre-crumbling, all-fumbling
You went, then: Sakura
(Though probably magnolia).
Now you are born again,
My parents indentured - like then.
But you do not have to weep over me
I do - I will never be you.
conspiracy
they put it in my head
seed to sapling
unloveable but mouldable
a rotten rose
when you said it
I thought it was a lie
paralysis - stay, sis
horrid goodbye
friendliness = flirtation
(at least in my almond eyes)
swallowed inside my prison
(but only metaphorically)
rot
every morning, every night
i inhale a clifftop high
or low lake, sunk
drinking and drunk
all things are dust, said He
but would she want me?
this noxious waste,
phantom, foul taste,
oh, she would vomit
this liminal spirit
wanderer, mourning
whilst others spin
I will embellish myself
afresh, good health
so she might devour me whole
the good, the bad, all