supersunshineagent

a females torso, thick or constrained, or thin, but seeking restaint in mock porcelain wombs feminine incubation such liquids sending her asleep, into mind where delusions simper as large cats will speak and nip at her shimmering entity and they detail forward the purple paths to where she may run legs wrapped around balloons of white silk she dons a bodice construed of wings the whimsy gift from butterflies who lead those curvaceous roads to find and fight a fleeting monstrosity blackened and manned threatening to swallow her sun -she is heroine lifted on the wings and silks of glamour

How awesome. What are those?, i imitate, twisting jowels that are toothy laughing like the twelve year old i have known of who leaned slight by a ramshackled engine and empty pickle jar we spat in until his eyes reviewed us black and yellow saying, too much spit scowling words? i believe all broken people are good for being laceable and reused so i take her, a russian redundant grimalkin, one remade shadow, into my pocket where i keep the other beetles and birds loosened tire studs, and older jack daniel caps that also tasted very good when first licked and she repeats, no, nothing. i said not a thing as i thought so, mumble

Hello. I don't know how to greet you I only know that I have always thought of you as something I could hold in my hands unnaturally as a fistful of minnows before they die puncture their own bones against me and secrete the abalone glaze of their eyes into a film on the dock Until now I have since kept you as a flighted likeness of my mind knowing too the cold of a multiplied sunset ending in frost and space between rivers the fragrance of a sweetly decomposing salmonberry, telling time for reddening chinook to end sweeping like a wind in the parts between birches or of it's stain that I would palm and carry thinking also

GHOST FROM THE SUN, ARE YOU ICARUS? I met my sunshine agent His wings were melting bones they charred like phosphorescent beetle backs that twisted as the dying worms curled around his shoulder blades breaking bone into whiter bone while the brightest ends all fanned away into the bleeding stalgmites that tipped below his toes I met my sunshine agent and he was as hollow as a ghost his head nearly brushed my ceiling as he floated across the wall all of his veins were liquid fire rushing and boiling where thy had burst to look like wounded flowers on his deadest of the whitest skin I met my sunshine agent when he descended

In a dream I met an Indian who as a man had only been alive for five minutes because I'd just made him out of pushing my fingers against stone and dirt we acted like strangers because his new blood became an uncomfortable feeling on my hands when his eyes were also there I watched him cover the cave of sorrowed chest cavity with a heavy blanket not asking me where I'd left his heart but there would never be a fire that could ever flame as red as the kindle i had used and then I left him there where he will always crouch at the fork of roads letting light become him from the tips of his hair to the yellow of his toes drink

she her hair was like mine unwired, untangled, and receeding with the moisture the tightest beads of sweat were sealing fast as eyes were cut and violent towards the sun like a slipping blackness that sulked with the pain of fire first, she was naked in the snow letting the ice set her bones new then i saw her nude in the ocean for it must have melted when the fires fell on the breasts and ribs of her caving chest that had convulsed into her her -the open creature that swallowed the sun

1. I would prefer to be adopted. (however, anyone on a lighter scale can contact me for general friendship and I won't say no) 2. I write both prose and poetry, (so im open) but prefer to work on prose. Age: 24 Category: I'm at the point in my life where I would to tackle a novel. I have a layout plan, but sometimes the immensity of the project overwhelms me. Otherwise, I'd love to fine tune short story writing. Writing Interests: It's always dark fantasy. Maybe occassionally it can be outright horror, or predominately science fiction: but always fantastic when versing reality. Expectations: I feel that I really need a mentor. Even just