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In by Bunc on November 2, 2013 at 8:45 pm

obsolete shanks of stained glass
align in her kaleidoscope of reasons
to spell words once wagered on
and long since forgotten

moonshine silhouettes of lucky numbers
on a drycleaned lottery ticket,
daring to be redeemed for more than a story
but here it is:

[fools waltz upon monsoon sands unaccompanied,
to the fulminant tide let them offer their loves:
these transient whispers they leave phosphorescent
relinquish no cinder, no wake in the frost]

november subsides,
battleworn vagrants in pairs
comb lacerated shorelines,
weary of thunderous solitude

trophies of petrified lightning to share
for the ones who withstood
in charmed resilience


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