Showcase 004

Apr 27, 20135 min read

Deviation Actions

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Published: Apr 27, 2013

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The main focus of The-Asterismos is to celebrate and provide exposure for your excellent literature deviations. Each Sunday, I will be taking the time to feature a number of outstanding pieces submitted to the group during the past week. I encourage you to browse through the work below! Each deviant featured is very worthy of your support.

Ofelia(picked-at dreams
crumble in my
fingers,
turning into
iron petals)
sun strips my eyes
so I can see
through air
(you let me forget)
but gravity kicks
in so I can be
born again.
and when insects
crawl into my skin,
I fall back;
my lips still sweat
a taste of
butterflies,
dripping.
daddy, when will
I ever wake up? will you ever learn to love yourselfshe was dead
before she hit the ground
a cell
frazzled & 60 percent water
her friends
or whatever you call them
‘seedy backwater
girl
brimming on the bus & never
wants to
haven’t you ever seen clouds before?’
she threw a handful of stones
pinched
sinking like balloons
a hungry ghost
tracing the outline
of a breaking surface :thumb360769248:
it's very beautiful over thereit's very beautiful over there you'll see—
flicker of gold;our rising sea
blanket softer gently green
sun's arms hold me near
in a bed of blue flowers—
cradled fattened breasts bare. The Creator's GameRain splashed at the wide window. Lightning flashed, brightening up the office, showing the silhouette of a man. Footsteps soon followed, indicated only by the slight vibrations in the floor, since the raging storm drowned out all noise.
Another flash. This time, the man was much closer, and appeared to be heading toward the door. He may have seen me in the flash, though I doubt he could make out my features any more than I could see his, and instead he merely knew that the safest option was to escape from the mysterious intruder while he still had the chance.
The door opened, and light trickled into the room. I saw his face, old and wrinkled, carrying a look of surprise and anger. I rushed to the door, and chased my target down the hallway, holding the miniature bomb in my hand. He turned to look at his killer, eyes wide with the realization of my identity, before sprinting to the stairs and screaming for security.
If he hadn't looked back, he might have got away. I caught him opening
stomachedyou blush and bruise
with sidewalks, stones,
the quiet doorways in your thighs
and the weight of your purple
tongue against mine
(a carnival of teeth)
if you swallowed the moon
with your agate jaws,
you could not be more nacreous
or divine the rainchild, the skin dripped from his fingers & the blood beneath was clearer than the truth, rivulets of rainsong pouring down the storm drain straight to the pacific ocean ; he never needed to cry. "the clouds
shed enough tears for all of us," he told me once and i remember
when i first met him, those arms outstretched & palms like little pools, oases running through lifelines. the fortune teller told him he would only live as long
as the storm
"it's the water in my veins," he said; "it washes away the stardust & we are all drinking our ancestors' ashes, did you know my grandfather tasted," he said, "like raspberry cordial & did you know that freckles
are like nebulae & your cheeks are full of moonlight, did you know that thunder
only claps after the lights go out?"
when i was young i counted miles in the silence before those soundwaves drowned my ears in rumbles. the longer the silence the farther the light & now, my voice is racing to catch up with your radiancy. sometimes we can see but we :thumb367422918:

See you next week for Showcase 005!

- Jessie

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