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Tag Archives: Ann Blackburn
I stopped playing. Instead, I lit the tree on fire. Shoelaces tied with hair too long to find the lost texts. And he said, “I’ll play you a song, tonight only” and in your dreams of wrappers and Styrofoam you’ll … Continue reading
I fragment on my axis, dreaming of cranberry clusters swimming like the fictional happiness clogging my veins. There is a heroic repercussion to surviving the battalion of heavyheartedness: A drifting fighter; mutated future of degeneration; a symbolic dump of attachment … Continue reading
Estimate the sorrow inscribed upon your hand— the projection of the prophets etched with bruises from the archer shooting loneliness through your skin. Protect your stiff-wall body from the barter of your pain: the crushing of deliverance, beaten dreamlands of … Continue reading
In the scattered fog, the Good Samaritan gestures to the fingerprint illustration: guilt and psalms. Sponsoring my travels, He diagrams the air: carbon monoxide ignites black-and-white palms. He teaches me hopeful paradoxes: to touch the wind, first lie in the … Continue reading