Perdition > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

Now my dusty fields feel as empty as God. Their days grown short and bound to memory, bound to choose some unattended tomb..

It was as goldenrod to a suburban day the all masked busy minds stopping in for a try I set down the blue..

The voice on the phone falls ill letters spilling over letterswe stand as voices in the open canyon breaking the mutual..

I glimpse the ship with one life listing transcendent; reflectivesetting course on the water’s end oblation locking ont..

It bends no other way cold shapeless walls ribs bitten to the nub my hand sits inside a can of aci..

Don’t look- it will find you be ready, have regrets but stay your instance when the last breath..

Looking down over a restless valley my feet soon soar with the morphine of clay wheels tattooed in moonlight, a surge from th..

But for the ends of our last night’s abstract , the sorrowful sails bearing to port the reasons that spark o..

The world forgets setting clocks onto cold clay countertops looking past the clouds and the doorways disturbe..

And on the water's surface angels assembled, briefly before my full descendance ...each held in breath, edged heavily in..