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Tag Archives: Allison Grayhurst
I leave my bread crumbs on the other side. I am waiting for motivation, for a clarity of purpose that I once owned like a beautiful stone I sunk under the St. Lawrence rapids. When I was a child, I … Continue reading
In the end, your love was not rich enough – was a heavy but surface love, never a defending love, defending despite the threat of a spinal break. Cool now. Almost cold as a thief without remorse, the stars that … Continue reading
Secret is the stone. I am listening and I can hear the pattern of its speaking. Twice I dreamt of fireflies, twice my dream labour came to naught. Blind in the grand scheme – signs that never manifest, and my … Continue reading
I blend under the covers to drift by the songbird though I never reach the songbird with my mind or my eyes. I can only melt with the mirror, a strange being blessed by freedom but not by much else. … Continue reading
The house is cold without you. It has a strange rhythm, an echo without a voice. How to sleep, drink coffee, grind the workaday toil, cast out by death, dumb now in the stillness of your absence, how? Because you … Continue reading
I lean out the window. There is no breeze, no people on the street. Everything feels wanting, even the birds with their first morning song. Cover my eyes. Build me a shell, a desert where I can wander in without … Continue reading