is the noose that lacerates the tongue on a breath of deep-fried voice why do you ask? - Rachel Gilliatt
bright windy tassels skip raindrops across sunlight, each finger a kiss wrapped around your stem of heightened poetry. I hear birds whistle by, and waltz with your words a shimmering memory pressed against my skin and you flow through me as I look up to the sky and wait for your hands - Rachel Gilliatt
Mr. Watson, come here, I want to see you. Using the phone is a very unnatural way to talk to someone. knot these tangles barbed wire could comb through the custody of no-man's land a dial tone on hold tapped dry of sign language .. ... now you say you've gone wireless and hang up the anchor coiled around your fingers yet you dial 1876 but still there is no answer when you call - Rachel Gilliatt
All about Poetry: Sublime, Ridiculous, Useful
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.