Writer

AuthorChris

Deliveranceville

Approach. Deliveranceville.

Shadows trick the eyes, letting the cave feel deeper than it is. The air is cool and pregnant with humidity, touching the skin with a delicate but sudden embrace. The cave is relatively small for what I imagine the mouth of a quarry to be and appears to be shaped like an ‘L.’ The length hugs the Gallery, its short leg abuts the...

Lake > boob

Tara at 6 months old

6:34 We talked work as we made our way up. The trail had tire ruts, but I didn’t notice tracks any newer than last season. Dark Mud sat where streams often crossed the path. New greening, last season’s brown and stone walls here and there. We came to an impressive ruin of the foundation of a large structure, perhaps a house, at...

Late Afternoon

cold coffee and French toast from last night’s baguettes splash of bad wine just to finish the bottle sunglasses shield souls worn open simmering with scents of leaves first fallen stirred in soup thick fog pouring through that hair of yours threading Berkshires to Taconic ridge in the midst of your raising and the heart of your...

Sit next to me

tell me the places your heart has been
so I might know my own

Walking

Rain does not touch you, fearing it could never stop.

Christmas 1980

A child’s eyes waiting for mom, who will never come home, abandoned to cotton and Crow at 3 months old, just beneath blooming breathing inferno, flash to fury in an atomic second. Dim apartment is a breathless skeleton, the brick and beam will manage to contain the unsayable for a time.

Spent

the floor does not spin
or sink, another inch
of ashes
spent sleepless shaking
bone-thin, thin skin

boiling, cracking, opens

and I am whole.

Shock scar

Where regrets lay down, relax and drift off for awhile casual & confident in the right to be indifferent to the soft, souring bodies cluttering, complicating, contriving half-truths excusing, explaining and too easily forgetting flash-frozen silence, soft sobbing obedient smile under shades over black and blue and tears over...

Lightbringer

hot pepper laced prayers
blessings condense, fog windows and fall
my heart waters and wells
adoring, pleading, needing
our long walks and full moon picnics
your eyes unsheathed in the dark

The Star

The Star

This was our first outing together in years. Lifetimes ago this tunnel had been an initiation of sorts. We went over some of the details we remembered, talked about how much more information was available these days, and how we had only seen a train come through on Youtube as we stitched together country back-roads on a cool early...

Writer
Christopher J. Sparks