i. counting the freckles
along your shoulders
like an astronomer maps
constellations; then get
ii. make love between the
sheets and perhaps
roll off the bed and land
on the cold floor laughing
with sparkling teeth,
iii. brush them in the
bathroom sink and
exchange small smirks in
the mirror because your
tousled bedhead is just so
iv. gorgeous, you whisper as you
close the clasp of my
diamond necklace and touch
my bare, unfreckled shoulders.
the heat of your eyes may
just undo the zipper of my
v. dress pooling on the floor, we
just can't contain ourselves.
don't make me late for work.
Hal blinked his orange reptilian eyes and squinted as a fierce gust of wind pelted his body with stinging glittering flecks of snow and rock. His tail turned away from the wind, coiling up tightly to conserve body heat. Among the DreamKeepers of Anduruna he certainly had not met any that looked much like him, a body with origins as ancient as the heavens themselves. Halcyon was a feathered reptile; a raptor. Neither dinosaur nor bird, he found himself on the terminus between two eras of evolution. His dark green scaly skin was almost entirely covered by jet black pl
to all the dreamers and to all the thinkers:
you are a bunch of fools.
tomorrow crashdived into yesterday
and the world's going to die soon.
trust me, i was there once,
and your mouth is not
a good place to have your heart;
it's better left out on your long sleeve.
take a pinch of sky from your desk
and just hold it for a while
then blow it away, all you little
dreamers and thinkers.
to all you scientists and astronomers,
stop playing the stars like a harp,
and stop harping on and on
because there's a new problem --
and all you little people, listen:
it's gaining on us fast.
so stop looking ahead
and start looking behind.
but there is no way out of this mess.
chaos, disaster, screams on the street;
rivers of mud tumble down Highway 21.
there is no explanation. don't try.
don't try to describe the pain and the way
your heart shattered beneath your ribcage.
you're dying. don't stare into the distance mumbling
it's too early for the apocalypse. five years too ear