by a cold hand hot light chasm open voiceless lips earned oblivion poisoned fruit open wound immobile fear red moon my love not that angel us one The post Statue of Couple appeared first on Breadcrumbs ..read more

When asked, it is air we want. Birdsong too, but to admit the latter feels like pushing it so let’s start with breath. When not asked, we raise hands to sky. From the bay windows high above us, members of the homeowners association shake their heads. Our pause confirms what someone was just saying about our idle ways. What on earth are we doing if not climbing? We are even slow in our greetings––total inefficiency! This bracing way of clasping both arms at once as though holding against a tipping ship, holding the gaze for balance as we ask, How are you? And in wonder, it is so good to see you ..read more

Considering the stars that are absent in daytime it is not so strange to find unknown bodies who unbidden but abiding, come––and the question of avian flight, its beginnings: from tree-limbs down or from ground up? The climbers between branches or the crawlers into them when the front pair of four limbs become propellers, then wings. One of the dancers compared her stirring limbs to the scream against the skeleton that might become in confinement a gnarled tree. Only the bird displays a wishbone, that peaking bow to scissor stratospheric weave and from her history this question about what is p ..read more

When the gods of the golden wars are done pruning the immortal siege of us I hope to still call after some bird of the unseen, come, I will feed you through the yawning lull of an entire day the wonder of its grace long taboo, a sin hidden in shadows of imperial gaze, amid the absolution of the drones, the least among us long translated to the lesser of two knowns a third way buried in the blast still calls with breaking voice Time says to me, o Space I fast become a body petrified in my eternity and I admit I am a vapor now, the scent of displaced selves nosing tracks along scorched earth we ..read more

Call it afterlife, our dispossession from what once entwined us in the body of a vast and complete mind for the wholes of the whole of our woven kinds when we still knew the limited range of certain words and the expansiveness of others when we felt them on a breeze. I want to mend this dream back to a time before a given good became the tear in the veil of sky, before the settled weight of a single image bowed the rooves above us against our nightly returns. The post Mortal Coils appeared first on Breadcrumbs ..read more

At a critical time, the high priests of progress were called in to advise, and it was expected that their minds would point ever forward, that new horizons would be proclaimed sacred and new wine drunk before its time while the sacrifice was made offstage. They did and it was. Aftermaths appeared much later on the new horizon, and eventually the aftermath was now. The post A Turning Point appeared first on Breadcrumbs ..read more

All that matters is–––what? Sometimes I cannot hear. I want the children to be able to dream and breathe. I want their dreams for them, their breath, their dream breath back to them now, the winds restored where they were knocked out like a blow to the back. Sometimes at a birth a child will need to be reminded to breathe, but this is something else. Sometimes at the death of children a collective body will need to be reminded back to collective breath. It knocks now. Let some new wind be what this is, knocking back. Louder now. Everyone I see in passing in a workday says the same thing. I nee ..read more

The only problem with that forward gaze was its original intent, to moor a land to an immature idea of the body she cradled while the cradled one, standing just past infancy, assumed dominion before he learned the force of a grown body, bowed––to stunning ignorance––as he kept his shoes on, surveying with proprietary gaze while making speeches, deaf to the winding hymns in currents past his plugged ears and blind to the ancient eyes perched just above, and forgetting the feel of her soils in his hands where once he kneeled. The post Irreverence appeared first on Breadcrumbs ..read more

At times it became clear that there was something very wrong about the way things were going, and that it was best for everyone seen to pause until the critical unseen factor could show itself. The risk of making things much, much worse was grave. But the movers of the moment were insistent. Action was valued for its own sake; it didn’t matter in which direction. To resist implied weakness. So, they kept on doing rapid things with decisive speed. More things! They announced, Happening Now! and More Things! Coming Soon. The post Against Intuition appeared first on Breadcrumb ..read more

The fabric that had held us had been thinning for several seasons. When it gave way, the rhythm changed, and we dropped. We had moved into another time, adjacent to the one we had been in. No one said, we are in another time now. It just happened. One layer pulls back, revealing something of an entirely different texture contained within the form. Neither did we ask, are we something else now, too? But of course, we were. As creatures of time, we felt its shifts within us, in our blood attuned to each one, the waves and tides of us, keeping what held us until it did not. The post These Times a ..read more