where the beautiful things are


island where all becomes clear. solid ground beneath your feet. the only roads are those that offer access. bushes bend beneath the weight of proofs. the tree of valid supposition grows here with branches disentangled since time immemorial. the tree of understanding, dazzlingly straight and simple, sprouts by the spring called now i get it. […]


after midnight

let the leftovers rot. let the last candle burn. let the clocks think whatever they want. this is the night, says the night, you were given. the hour, each hour, you’ve lost. so lean into me, love kiss the blue children. come cast our brief shadows together. let the wet branches lash the black windows […]