dream 12
A man’s face appeared, adorned
in peyote buttons and bones,
stretched like a hide
across saguaro spines.
His eyes’ heavy gaze fell over me
like stones displaced a drowned
turquoise quarry.
The jagged line of his mouth
had been carved by hand and shone
against the dark like abalone shell.
He spoke abruptly,
with an onslaught of sound.
The way dynamite finds its way
to the heart of a mountain.
I woke on a bed of nails,
earlier than the Sun could bare
to climb the horizon. To thunder
crashing outside, like waves
reclaiming as their own
the bedrock of Earth itself.
About the Creator
Sean
A lover of soft cheese and delayed gratification. I prefer plants to people, more often than not. Dirt is my medicine and filth a form of therapy. Most of these words should find a home among compost but hey, at least I'm still writing.
A Love Forboding
The chipped stone slope caused unbearable footing. I slid, skirting on my heels. I cast my shield, relinquishing my guard to stay upright. Left with my double-edge and a prayer to the maker, I skated toward my objective. The earthly stubble gave way to solid ground. I found myself restored, a trail of dust in my wake.
By James U. Rizzi4 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.