24. hush hide

DSC_0058DSC_0093.jpgDSC_0077.jpghush hide. kiss the tide of cadmium. mustard doors. leaning on spokes. trespassing the tender circulation of inner organs. pushing blue blood and blah blah words. “love.” the delicate petaled touch in our mouths. polka-dotted minds with many-hued days. the breathless wind wound on the tip of our tongues. pallid eyelids surviving the placement of warning signs. pretending they aren’t there. overwhelming. landscapes whispering tender bewilderment. “love,” i remember when you almost said it.

xoxo,

mute style

thrifted vocabulary

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thirty minutes too long in the dressing room. regarding the crack running from the ceiling. sidestepping the sun spit. lizards losing skin. the lipstick vandalism. kissing the napkin from the piece-of-cake shaped dressing room. an image pointed through the sky. glimpsing beauty. the definition of shell buttons on a cotton dress and the resemblance of the confident girl wearing them. try on the puff of frosting and lick the floor clean. pull the fork from my iris. and continue eating. an excerpt from the dressing room diaries.

xoxo,

mute style

13. bronze and beat

this was a mistake. my heart is like a squished stress ball. it’s not the cracks in a piñata ready for fun. more like the loops of a crochet shall filtering in the oceanic cold. i dipped my hair in fire expecting it to keep myself warm. as i glimpse the wind winged seagulls, i realize that i drift often to thought patterns with you arrowed in the forefront. mush that became liquified. and evaporated into the blueness of the sky. maybe i am the opposite of clever. maybe i am roasted air that rises. maybe i want somebody. maybe i still want that somebody to be you. whatever. does any of this matter? when families are torn apart and little girls aren’t eating. the world is suffering more than the flames of my head reading a collection of romantics.

xoxo,

mute style

11. power lunch

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emergence of january.

somedays i hike in a dress. appearing like a business women marching to a forest. the twittering birds and tourists scattered along the path. power lunch tucked away. grateful i still have this sanctuary of escape. the rain heightens the greenery. the path to simplicity. i haul along my camera because of this intent necessity to create. to showcase something. something stomached. something to explicate. my pleasure with muddy soles.

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xoxo,

mute style