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Natureexpand_moreGet all of it. Set up the shots. Get beautiful stuff and get the ugliness.
This morning drifts of sand hissed along the shore like mist.
We pull up alongside the great body. The fin marks the spot.
Her city, but no cats. Specks of color, no cloth.
We’d never had a cross word, but I’d never corrected him.
Wrung taut & tender at the soft play of fingertips, we breathe desires. Laughter takes refuge in bodies no longer coaxed to move. Nature becomes a thought.
Design a way to kill those rats, and do it now, Fiori, do it now.
Where will we go and how will we steer when the cars are gone?
Re: murdering democracy, oiling the shore, shearing the rain forest.
Across sage flats, tundra, and bleeding hearts, she escapes.
I never actually existed. I didn’t know it at the time, but it’s clear as day.
I make a point of smelling the lilac every day that first week in May.
Because I can love every small thing.
My job requires me to make things disappear like a Vegas magician.
No one was awake and I was hungover young as clean as a piano.
You have your apron on under your coat. We’ve got each other.
I feel unnatural, half a human face smothered in deep light.
Yes, Sweetness, a white shadow shimmers on the X-ray of the future.
I stop and look at the sky. Suddenly: orange, red, pink, blue, green, purple.
You and the cat wish I were baking pumpkin pie and we were happier.
Her mother singing out the window at trucks slamming the other way.
The world smells brand-new crisp the way an ax cuts fire wood.
No one else ever seemed to mind working side-by-side a murderer.
The slow-falling leaves contain the space of the story I’m pursuing.
There were so many tired, frayed words thick in the air around her.
A new Wyoming photography portfolio from Twister Marquiss
A new Wyoming photography portfolio from Twister Marquiss
Twister Marquiss
A bunny the size of a teacup feasts in the clover, ears lit up in salt-pink light.
