by on

You know why I hate touch screen phones? Because of how often I find myself typing *our, out, and *put are just variations of the autocorrect variables + my fat thumbs (*that ac aggressively suggests I must mean “far”)

That’s about all for the morning. ♡paige

by on

  ⁕                                                                    .

                                                                                              *

∗

•                                   

                                                                         .

∗                                                                                   ⁕

⁞

for you i am a tequila sunrise;

for you i am heartbeat panging

through the pages

of schoolgirl crush notebook.

kissing crux of neck bone crest collar,

soft and warm as morning bread.

                                                       .                                 •

*                             .

                                                  ⁕

you are at least 6′ tall.

i blink.

i am sure.                                    ⊹

i say: starlight you are sunshine                         .

and i love you like buttercups.

i write you sonnets and give you heartbeat

gift wrapped in its parchment.                                                   *

             .                                      .                         

*                                   ⋆

                                                               *

you grow 10′ taller.

you are menace and

i am mouse.

i tell you i am falling from your eyelash.

you grow larger. 20′ tall now.

13 miles you crest everest.                                 .

i go to hold your hand but i’m a lonely golden pebble.

you ask the clouds a favor;                             .                        

to blow their wind and push you away.

                                    .                                                  º             *

 *                                                              *

                             ⊹

you are leaving.

i will stay.

i tell you i need you.

i feel nothing.

i am in the stratosphere; floating                        .

i am a helium balloon and you are shrinking.

                               º

*                                                             *

you are dusking sunset through bleary eye slits              .

and it is getting cold here.

star sparkle my vision sun sinking             .

backlit dropping…*

                             *            

                                                   *

you are

… my lover?                                                                                    ⊹

you are                   º

…my height now.                                               •

no.                                           .                                                   .

you are smaller.

you are sprawling pacific ocean.                   *

whole life ahead of you.

*                            .

                                                     º

i am drifting alone.

i still love you.

you are orange melodrama,                    .    ·

you are marmalade paintings on still-life ocean surface.

you are the west and i am gone.              *

                                    · •                .

*

                                 .                                             *

every constellation becomes a new map evolving

and i am only marrow.

you can see right through me.                        ⊹

i am an open book and you are diary entry.

startling the starlings with my stories.

i regale earth’s sucking mud,                        .                 ∗

her jewel weeds, dandelion wish clouds,

and the way you kept together everything.

∗                             .                                    ⊹

                           ⁕

            .                                            •

furloughed like an arrow.

you sentenced me to no-thing.                                      º

bone marrow bow flung me                                                                              .

with the bow crafted of my own heart strings.

sorry. i couldn’t make it to the moon by morning.                                   ⁕

i hope the darkness wasn’t so bad.

i hope you missed me.  –six pm | *furloughed

   ⁕                                                                                 .

                     *

                                                            ∗

                                                                               •

                             .

∗                                                                          

                                                               ⁕

by on

*

∗

⋆

Avatar the Last Airbender | 2005-2008

⋱

When cast upon the barren terrain of loneliness I’ve crafted many castles and shrines to give shape to this flat land. Worshiping Him who merely crossed but did not root.


Every smirk; a sunrise scattering blue light and casting a golden warmth upon my empty sand. I was a sponge; I absorbed every ray of His light and when His star set, I began to pray facing West. I was left alone in the dark with shadows and shapes of the towers looming unoccupied.


To preoccupy myself from the daunting empty and the always alone I painted murals and gilded each shrine with gold. I went hungry to leave rice cakes and fruits at His altar— hoping to lure Him into the home I’d created and love me again for the art I’d devoted to His likenesses and name.


Each note upon which I’d wrote became a poem, became a notebook, became a grimoire full of morbid canticles. Much like space my loneliness spreads infinitely, as vibration and blue songs, as if willing its way towards forever seeking the edge and an end.


Every red candle burned brightly not to satiate the darkness; but as prayers to cast beacons across the liquid night and beckon back His ghostly glow.


If He’d rose again and become my sun, daring only I stare into His deadly radiation I’d have gladly looked boldly until falling blind; so blindly did I seek to feel the embrace of love when I was empty and there was none. –six pm

∗six pm | *holy ghost

by on
Aladdin 1992

Dear 6,

     I write you to allow myself closure. The truth I’ve never revealed to you is how after years of atheism and searching for answers it was only upon meeting you that I almost believed in God.

     I’d spent my young years with my nose to the grindstone and had very little time for fun and frolic. I have always been restless, a wild-child in my soul diving into fiction to suppress these desires. I’d sacrificed education for hourly wages necessary to keep the roof over my head. I exposed these truths to you in shame to be comforted by the thick tusk of your shoulder.

      The musk of your natural body still intoxicates my senses. The deep sienna of your skin against the champagne color of my wrists trembling as you placed upon its thin wafer layer a first kiss. Where did it all go wrong? Was it how our bodies didn’t quite fit the way our minds melted like wax and our conversation flowed like wine? The awkward communion of the first sacrament of our union…

     This I won’t forget: your deception and how its reveal decapitated the holy body of our bond at the slender curve of its neck.

     There are two instances in my life that are traumatic blessings: the birth of my child at the age of 18 and the loss of you at 28. To the other side of this continent you reside with a whole fraction of my soul. I write you this letter in hopes you might know. But I send nothing to you, our communication will remain cold.

Save you discover this letters, until which no bars will I hold.

Yours,

3.14

*For him whose name meaning is heart, and the associated lucky number is 6.

*six pm | 2021 {notes on poems

by on
Aladdin 1992

*

*

*

[ I don’t believe in magic ]

but I do believe in

magnetism

and

*

⁝

the

direction of our stars

so don’t call this intuition

[ when all sign say you’re *my north. ]

*

-six pm | *my north

*

*

by on
Aladdin 1992


i.

I think that I knew it

the moment we kissed

I’d made a terrible mistake

Time yawned for my heart

(she stretched, pulled her own fabric)

nearly ripped herself apart

(her pity was an act of mercy)

Those few moments extended revealed

(time is a rubber band)

the whirring patterns of faery light

(gravity is a mould)

spidered, webbed, holding reality together

(These are my favorite days)

when I lay back to

let earth swallow me in her sand

(these memories will be my solace)

everyone moves on

we (I) must, anyway

our song; v. a prayer

(that you will make it home alive)

our verse; v. voodoo binding you to I

(so that you will still love me after)

ii.

Repeat.

(Repeat)

Reincarnation.

A reoccurring dream

My worst nightmare

(you – me)

I hear the skies in Iraq are a breathtaking sight

(northern hemisphere)

did you count every star?

(the fortune teller told me)

the creator mapped each constellation

(from me to you)

iii.

Welcome home brave soul

defender of the desert

keeper of her secrets

I’ll hold a ticker tape parade in your honor

10 carnations

(red + white)

wrapped in ribbons

(navy blue)

my gifts to you

I’ll provide the paper; a billion poems

that I ripped apart

trying to describe your perfect teeth

I saw your smile in the waxing gibbous

every month on quiet evenings

One year ago; it still aches

like a new wound (∞)

our relation; my yearning passion

(my poetry; n. dying art)

–six pm | *ad nauseum

by on
Avatar the Last Airbender 2005-2008

i. most magical-beings prefer wild things.

time was where you existed. here. in this space where i have banished your physical form. i print your photographs and reduce you to only 2 dimensions. i spell words, iambic poems, and call the lyrics hexagonal. weaving messages like memories engraved as memorials into the air. symbols burned into my lungs drumming down my throat in heartbeat pattern morse code. pat pat pat the cadence of your character presses beyond its own boundaries and establishes new limits.

bars of sunlight create glitter of dust, but cannot provide magic powerful enough to overcome the grip of this depression. no words can cast a spell over overcast nettled clouds conspiring rain exclusively via creamed coffee eyes. turns them wet and red like koi ponds drowning the sunlight in your ripples.

i have had an eternity to ponder the philosophy of life. i have come to this conclusion: god’s first display of power was to name things. when you kissed each one of my eyelids and named me ‘honey’ i saw my life the way you’d been dreaming it. and so you became holy my blood thickened to the consistency of a viscous liquid saccharine, too morose to pump reason through my veins.

i longed for you. no. more than that. i fought for you. and you are a warrior so you must understand how much you meant to me. i was delicate and focused until you wrapped you madness around me with your lips and i kissed you and drank of it until you grew bored of me and then the madness abandoned me to the quiet.

your body tanned by the unforgiving work in this sunshine. i admired it like Adonis. i saw my reflection in your sweat pools and fell in love with myself in you like a sick twisted Narcissus. like dust in the air the sun made magic out of a thing so common, made gold of a working man’s skin tone. and i—ivory slave to the moon kissed by her beams, spoiled by pillows and pashmina and sleeping until noon, soft boiled eggs for bed in breakfast making love in the frame of our bedroom window. with purple eyes bruised by telescope keyhole making the tiny universe large enough to bite… making me so much smaller. so small that you stepped all over me. too small to swallow you.

Avatar the Last Airbender 2005-2008

ii. i was almost ripped in two, once.

together we were decadence, furnishings forbidden by all ethical code of conduct, conduits of sin: ivory inlayed with gold filigree and no honest man would dare destroy it once it was put together… had we not peeled ourselves apart. pushed awry by the moisture of an enveloping world, God’s masterwork raining on man’s made masterpieces of precious materials soaked in the ripples of rain. nature has no regard for peripheral trinkets like carved tusks and mined metals boiled and thinned and pounded and husked to be a shadow of what it once was. we were to be reclaimed like everything too ornate for utility. we would be stolen like the jewelry we are and tucked away until the estate sale of someone less grateful but more wealthy.

i thought I had it all, that i’d finally held everything…

but my gold-rushed to the coasts of C a l i f o r n i a.

leaving me- ivory with a cold bone heart.

3 0 0 0 m i l e s, from my head on your shoulder.

you are banished from my pillow case.

a scar across the sunset sets the scar across my forehead purple while my neurosis picks at scabs turning towels red. the scar across my arm begins to glow under the moonbeams casting soft hue about the encroaching shadow and i turn on flash to take its picture. the dusk sets the scene for a martian planet without ever having taken off from under the oppressive atmosphere of mother.

i lay down on top of my roof and pray that i might roll off and never feel the falling. gun metal cold of a steely eye contact briskly cuts me without ever having to make real contact at all. i lay here fuchsia in my panties, i squabble with the seconds. i forge a foxhole in your neck nape to survive the nuclear winter. i reserve my american right to lie bare in your arms...

….i delete your number from my phone.

–six pm | *all the elements in honey